Sunflower
by scrapingskies
Summary: [HIPS Spin-Off] Being a teenager was never going to be easy, especially when you get bitten by a genetically-enhanced and flung into the superhero life. Miles Morales has a lot to worry about: Saving the world, his grades and that cute girl, Emmy Thomas. Emmy Thomas' life was a mystery, with her strange mother and absent father. Turns out, both kids have something to learn.
1. Chapter 1

**PLEASE READ THIS: If you haven't read my other story, Hidden in Plain Sight, then you're not gonna get this. I'm presuming most people here have, but if you haven't, this is a spin-off/au version of this story with characters/events that only really make sense if you've read the original. So why not check it out? It's wayyy too long though ugh.**

 **Hello! I'm writing again! Man, I'm excited to write this and I hope you guys enjoy it. I'll give you a rundown: Peter, Adara and Harry are** _ **adults**_ **now, the Avengers be old but nothing's gonna stop them from trying to save the world (even with their cracking joints), Infinity War and Civil War never happened but basically everything else did (it'll be explained as we go along the story and Adara and Peter aren't the happy couple we wanted them to be :(**

 **This story mainly rotates around Miles Morales (I stan) and Emmy (daughter of Adara) but we'll see a lot of Adara, Peter and Harry too. We'll see the Avengers pop up once and awhile (Steve, Tony, Nat) and Ned and Michelle too. There's also gonna be a lot more Oscorp shit and a familiar, Spiderman villain returning hmmmm.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this story because it's quite fun to write and there's a lot of room to do my own thing. A lot of Miles' story is based off the Spiderverse movie, but adjusted slightly but the actual plot won't be that much like the film.**

* * *

" _Wake up, there's a new kid in the town_

 _Honey, he's moving into the big house_

 _Remember when I was so very hopeless_

 _Darling, he's gonna make it all better_ "

* * *

 **Chapter One:**

 _ **Queens, New York**_

 **Monday, September 1st**

 **Midnight**

New York was the city that never slept, Peter supposed it was relatable in that way. He enjoyed it though, late nights in Queens where the world was quieter than usual and he had time to think. Between his job and being Spiderman and sleeping, he rarely got a chance to clear his head as much as he used to. So, it was nice to get out every once and awhile to stretch his legs and catch his breath and contemplate how he had got here.

Not specifically _here_ , on the roof of this building he was crouched atop, but just where he was now. Peter Parker was thirty-seven now, and had been Spiderman for over twenty years at this point. His suit had changed a lot, mainly thanks to his own modifications. Tony had implemented a lot of features, which he was grateful for, of course, but he needed to tune it down. Now, at least, he had hooked up Karen to police transmitters so he could keep his eye on crime all around the city, he had improved on his web shooters and its abilities overall. He would always be grateful for Tony, of course, he would've never _really_ become Spiderman without him, but he was an adult now and had to become more independent as a person _and_ as Spiderman.

However, adulthood probably hadn't been as breezey as he thought. Being Spiderman as a student had been hard. But it had been harder as an adult. Now he had to get a job and pay rent and do all the other boring adult stuff that really limited time as Spiderman. But he hadn't given it up, he was persistent like that.

It was probably that persistence that caused his divorce. But he didn't like to think about that much.

Before his thoughts could spiral into that depressive hole, he got a call.

"Incoming call from Harry Osborn," said Karen, "shall I answer it?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, "hey, Harry."

" _Hey, Peter,_ " came his friend's voice, " _You're up late_."

"When am I not?" He pointed out with a snort, "you wouldn't be calling this late unless you needed something, so what's up?"

" _It's my dad, mainly, you know how paranoid he gets. Anyway, he thinks that Roxxon industries is up to something."_

"I don't want to get in between some company, lawsuit battle," said Peter with caution, but he stood up anyway.

" _It's not just that. Dad says that someone managed to access his private files on his laptop and saw some experimental technology we've been working on. Anyway, he's just on edge, thinks that Roxxon is gonna send one of their hired people to steal some of the blueprints he saw. I think we both know that Roxxon can't handle any of that kinda tech. So, I was wondering if you could just keep an eye on the building for me. Please?"_

Peter nodded, this was probably a fair point. Roxxon Corporations was always trying to find a new source of energy in a world running out of fuel but their scientists never quite had the same skills as those from Stark industries or Oscorp, so had been known to hire some dodgy people to steal so Norman and Harry's paranoia wasn't unfounded. However, Roxxon was fairly incapable, unlike Oscorp. If Roxxon got hands on some of the high-tech developments going on inside the Oscorp tower, they wouldn't even begin to know how to use it.

"Alright," he said, knowing he had nothing else to do, "I'll keep watch."

" _Thank you_ ," relief was heavy in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah," Peter got to the edge of the building, "I'll call you if anything happens."

He put down the call and shot out a web, from there it was an easy swing through the city, cool wind hitting his face as he arrived in Manhattan. Oscorp tower was one of those buildings that dominated the New York skyline, hitting the height of the Empire State building with the word 'Oscorp' glowing brighter than any christmas decorations ever could.

Peter landed on top of the roof with a thunk after pulling himself up to the top. He crawled to the edge, lenses on the mask narrowing as he peered down. Nothing, silent.

The city was much more peaceful from up here, the chaos of car crowded blurred into a mesh of headlights, making it impossible to distinguish one vehicle from another. The sound of the streets were far away, no sounds of yelling or cars honking, just the light whistling of the wind and the distant rumble of a plane flying overhead, hidden away by the clouds.

"Hey, Karen," he said, sitting down and leaning against a satellite pole, "what's Norman working on that he wants to keep so secret?"

"Oscorp industries always keeps their projects top secret in files that would take an expert to break _,"_ the AI told him.

"I swear, big companies are always up to something dodgy," he paused, "don't tell Tony I said that." He had reached the point where he had known the man long enough that he no longer needed to address him as 'Mr Stark.' "Any signs of a recent break in?"

"No, the building is completely silent."

A decade or so back, Oscorp tower used to be in Queens, which was convenient for Harry who used to live in it so he could attend Midtown. In his younger, high school days, Peter would go round to Oscorp tower a lot. Not anymore. Then it had moved to Manhattan where it could be built bigger and better to house the growing business. Harry still worked with his dad and was becoming a bit of a high-flyer within the business, but had moved to Brooklyn with his husband and highschool sweetheart, Jason. Adara was living in Brooklyn, Peter was pretty sure of that. He had thought about checking in every once and awhile, but figured that Adara didn't really want to see him.

He heard something, quiet but it caused his senses to tingle. Carefully, he peeked over the edge again to see a dark shape moving against the light of the OSCORP sign, somehow climbing up the building. He couldn't make out the figure straight away, but his lenses narrowed as, whoever they were, placed a device against one of the windows, releasing a high pitched sound, almost too high for any normal human to hear. But Peter wasn't a normal human and flinched back before the noise stopped and heard the sound of glass shattering.

"He's broken in," realised Peter. Harry had been right!

The figure dodged through the broken window and Peter listened carefully, no alarms had been set off. Guess this was up to him. He crawled down the side of the building, heading towards where the window had been smashed and peeked inside.

It was pitch black, no lights were on and no one was home.

"Karen," he whispered, "activate night vision mode."

Within his suit, the lighting turned green and everything was now visible. He glanced from side to side, but couldn't see where the trespasser had gone. Silently, he dropped into the building, avoiding the tiny, glass shards scattered across the floor. He was in an office of some kind, but it was empty. He quickly left the room, pushing open the door to see it let to another corridor but it was wide and filled with metal doors that seemed to be locked. Peter quickly dropped to the ground when he saw the trespasser was in the corridor, trying to get into one of those rooms blocked off by the thick, metal doors.

Now that he got a closer, look, he peered at the burglar. He couldn't make out the colours of his suit with the green night vision, but he did recognise the design. It almost mimicked the Spiderman suit, just darker and with a cape and with white slits that were alike to the lenses on Spiderman's mask.

The Prowler.

One of the most notorious thieves in the whole of America, let alone New York, and the perfect choice to steal from Oscorp. He had many devices, such as code breakers and magnets in his gauntlets, which allowed him to climb all the way up to the top of this very building. His gauntlets also allowed him to punch _hard_ and deadly, they were heavy and thick and dangerous. His suit was a dark purple and black, and his eyes were slits of white that glowed in the dark, allowing him to see anyone no matter the lighting. Peter had to be very careful if he wanted to stealthily taking down. This wasn't the first time he had tangled with the Prowler, and he was keen on making sure it would be the last time. He was a fearsome opponent, and had a knack for escaping, no matter how tight the situation.

Peter latched onto one of the walls and silently crawled across it, approaching as Prowler managed to get the door open and step inside. Whatever was in there was probably what he was after. Had Roxxon hired him? Probably. Even if they hadn't, it didn't matter. Whatever technology was in there was Oscorp, which meant it was probably pretty powerful. Having that kind of science fall into the incapable hands of Roxxon or any other corporation could end in a big disaster. All Peter had to do was stop him…

He glanced inside the room Prowler had entered and, from his limited view, could just about make out the cages that lined the walls. Strange, what could be inside them. The Prowler seemed to ignore these cages though and headed straight for the centre of the room where there was a series of desks with lab equipment strewn on top of them.

Peter ducked into the room, careful to keep out of sight by ducking behind one of the cages. It was empty. Strange. It didn't matter, he kept his sights trained on the Prowler, watching as he glanced at the lab equipment, obviously searching for something. Peter tilted his head to the side, curious and waiting. Though he desperately wanted to make a quip or something, he was too intrigued by the actions here that he would just have to wait.

Then, the Prowler seemed to find it, a set of what could be blueprints had been rolled up on the table. The burglar then walked to the other end of the room and Peter dived towards the desks, peering over them to get a closer look as he made his way towards what could be a safe. Unravelling the blueprints, the Prowler glanced at them for a second before typing in something to lock. The code.

There was a click, followed by a sudden bright light as the safe creaked open, the door acting almost like a fridge, the light turning on when it was opened. Inside was shelves upon shelves of glass cages containing small, scuttling animals. In the centre of it all, a syringe.

This seemed to be what the Prowler was after, as he picked up the syringe and turned around.

Peter was standing up, "hey! Long time, no see. You're looking good! Lost some weight?"

"Spiderman," his voice was a growl thanks to the voice distortion, "do you always have to get in my way?"

He shrugged, "yeah, it's kinda what I do."

The prowler stuffed the syringe away and leapt at Peter, who saw it coming with no problem, gracefully ducking underneath it and causing his opponent to lose balance.

"Wow," he said, "you've gotten slow. Maybe you've actually gained a few pounds- woah!"

He was cut off mid-quip as one of the gauntlets came careening out of nowhere, hitting him in the stomach. Peter was sent flying backwards, smashing into a stash of crates which came crashing down on top of him.

"You better staying out of this one, Spiderman," warned the Prowler, though menace remained in his tone so it was _not_ a friendly piece of advice, "you have no idea what you're dealing with. You're in over your head."

"When am I not?" He asked, firing a web that wrapped itself around one of the Prowler's gauntlets, "besides, I don't think you know much about this either. I think someone hired you to do this. Who? Roxxon?"

The Prowler didn't give him an answer, just ripped the web off its gauntlet and grabbed one of the cages, which Peter barely managed to dodge as he swung himself up onto the ceiling and then dropped down onto the lab table below as the cage smashed against the door.

"Honestly, I don't think this is a great way of making money," he said honestly, "I mean, why not try becoming a chef? Or a doctor? It's a lot more rewarding, or so I've been told."

Another cage was sent flying his way, but this time he was prepared as Peter attached a web to it and flung it around in a circle, causing it to hit the prowler who went crashing back into the safe. The sound of glass smashing signalled the cages holding the insects and small creatures from earlier had been broken.

"You'll regret that Spiderman!" Said the Prowler, jumping back onto his feet, unaware of the actual spider, released from its cage, crawling up his leg.

"No, I think you'll be the one doing the regretting," said Peter as he webbed one of the gauntlets, sticking it to the wall, before doing to the same to the other one. He hopped off the lab desk, walking over to the Prowler and reaching into his belt, "I'll be taking this."

The thief struggled against his restraints, "no, give that back!"

"Why should I?" Asked Peter, "it's not yours, _you_ stole it."

Suddenly, he relaxed, his posture changing, "they'll kill me if I don't get it to them…"

Peter's lenses narrowed, "who will kill you? Roxxon?"

"I have a nephew, Spiderman," he said, "young, starting a new school. Are you really just gonna let him lose his uncle?"

Peter's stance shifted from tense to relaxed, "I can help you-"

Bang! The Prowler had taken that few seconds of distraction to loosen his restraints, allowing him to jump on top of Spiderman, ripping the syringe out of his hands and knocking his head against the lab desk, which made a painful cracking noise.

Peter sank to the floor, dazed as the Prowler walked over to him, standing above him. "Who'd thought it?" A Brooklyn accent could just be made out from beneath the distorted voice, "I'm the one to finally take down the Spiderman."

"Think again," said Peter, ignoring the pain as he fired a web at the syringe the Prowler was holding.

As it was torn from his grip, the Prowler made a grab for it, causing Peter's web to got a bit haywire and, suddenly, the syringe smashed against the floor. It shattered to pieces, the liquid spilling out before dissolving into the floor. Gone for good.

"No!" Yelled the Prowler.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a choking gas. A smoke bomb. Damn, the Prowler was trying to escape. Peter got to his feet and clumsily raced out the room, his usually heightened senses dull thanks to the smoke bomb. By the time he had stumbled back into the office, the Prowler had already jumped out of the window and away. There would be no arresting him today.

"Karen," said Peter through heavy breaths, "did you see what that substance was? Inside the syringe?"

"I'm sorry, Peter," came the soft reply of the AI, "I didn't get enough time to do a scan."

"At least it's not in Roxxon's hands," he sighed, "hey, Karen, call Harry, will you?"

"Calling Harry…"

" _Hey, Peter, did you see something_?" His friend picked up almost instantly.

"The Prowler was trying to steal something," weariness was obvious in Peter's tone, "hired by Roxxon probably, but he's not one for straight forward answers."

" _The Prowler? Shit,_ " muttered Harry, " _What was he trying to steal?_ "

"I don't know," he shrugged, standing on the window sill and firing a web at the nearest skyscraper, "something in a syringe, either way it's gone now, dropped and smashed while fighting. Any idea what it was?"

" _I don't know everything my dad works on_ ," said Harry, " _I'll tell him about what happened. He'll probably be pissed and try to sue someone."_

"What's new there?" He swung out of the Oscorp building, "there's no tracking down the Prowler now. I'm gonna call it in for the night."

" _Right, Peter,_ " he said, " _I'll call you if anything else happens._ "

"Yeah, please do," he said, landing on a different roof and yawning, "see you, Harry."

" _Yeah, bye_."

The call ended and he began the long trek all the way back to his small apartment in Queens.

* * *

 **The next morning**

 _ **Brooklyn, New York City**_

Miles was woken up by the sound of his dad yelling his name, followed by a loud pounding on the door.

"Miles!" He yelled, "are you up yet?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling out of bed and onto the floor, groaning, "I'm up, dad."

"Then hurry up and get ready," he said, "you don't wanna be late on your first day." The sound of footsteps signalled his dad had moved away from the door.

"First day?" Miles continued to lie on the floor, staring at the ceiling before the realisation hit him, "first day! Mierda."

He scrambled back up to his feet and rushed to get ready. Today was supposed to be his first day at Brooklyn Visions Academy and, glancing at his alarm clock, he had overslept. Way to make a good first impression, Miles. He was moving there from his old high school, where he had spent his freshman year, after he managed to get the final spot in a charter school lottery. He was nervous about moving of course, he fit in well at his old high school and, though he wouldn't brag about it, was pretty popular too. At Visions, every kid was smart and Miles would probably struggle to keep up. He wasn't dumb, but he wasn't a whiz at science or math or any of that crap. He preferred to stick to his artwork but he wondered how much time he would get to do that kind of thing at a place like Visions Academy.

"Miles!" His dad yelled again, five minutes later.

Miles, who had just shoved most of his clothes into a suitcase and was now sitting on top of it so it would close, glanced up, "uh- yeah, yeah, I'm coming!"

He dragged his suitcase into the kitchen, it was heavy and not exactly suited to his skinny arms. His dad appeared, rolling his eyes as he took it off of his son, picking it up with one hand with ease. Miles grinned and shoved some bread in the toaster.

"You don't have to walk to school," his dad said, "I can just give you a ride."

Miles pulled a face, "in your cop car? No thanks, I don't want people's first impression of me to be that I got arrested on my way to school."

"So your just gonna carry that case all the way there?" He looked at him doubtfully.

"I can do it," Miles said, "it's not like it's that far. Besides, I'm super strong."

"I'm sure you are," he said, not sounding very convinced, "but the offer is still up for a ride."

"I'll be fine, dad," he insisted, the toast suddenly popping out of the toaster, causing him to jump. "Anyway, I need to go if I don't want to be late. Mom!" He yelled, "me voy ahora!"

"Wait!" Came the reply from the other room and his mom appeared, "you think you could just leave without saying goodbye?"

"I'll be back by Friday," he said, "you won't even notice I'm gone."

His mom seemed to disagree and, after two minutes of fussing, Miles just managed to scoff down his toast and put his trainers on as he dodged out the house, backpack round his shoulders, headphones in and ready to leave. He said one last goodbye to both his parents and headed off to school. First day, this had to go well otherwise that spelt out doom for the rest of the year. But, so far, everything was going smoothly. Sure, he had overslept, but he was still gonna arrive with plenty of time to spare. And he hadn't burnt his toast or tripped over on the way to school yet, which was always a plus. That, and his backpack was fairly light. And his suitcase...

He had forgotten his suitcase.

He was already halfway to school, and it would be a ten minute walk all the way back to his house at this point and if he had to go back, he would probably end up being late for school. Not a great first impression.

His saviour came in the form of his dad, driving his nypd car and pulling up on the curb beside him. He looked at his son, and gestured to the suitcase next to him.

"Forgetting something?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Miles rolled his eyes, climbing into the backseat.

Jefferson Davis was a cop, one of the cities finest at that. Sure, he wasn't as well decorated nor did he earn a crazy amount of money, but he was definitely the best cop out of them all. Unlike all those over-paid, doughnut-eating pigs that sat at the top of the hierarchy with their badges and certificates, Officer Davis worked on the streets and dealt with the real dangerous situations. He'd been shot at, stabbed, beaten up and blasted, but he still got up. He treated his job with respect, which made him _the_ greatest cop in Miles' eyes, though he would never admit it.

And he really wasn't enjoying sitting in the backseat right now, looking like he had just been arrested as his dad switched on the radio.

"I mean," he began, "how long did it take you realise you'd forgotten it?"

"I don't know," Miles shrugged, "I knew you'd turn up at some point so…"

"Sure you did," Jefferson shook his head.

"Dad, do I have to go to this school?" Asked Miles, "I mean, I'm probably not gonna be as good as all the other kids there, am I? And, honestly, I like my other high school. I mean, people like me there and I like them. What if these new kids don't like me?"

"Why wouldn't they like you?"

"Because I'm not like them," he pointed out, "they're all super smart and stuff, and I'm just… not."

"Listen, Miles," his dad began, "you got this place, so you go there. You ahve as much of a right to be there as anyone else. It doesn't matter what any of those kids say or think about you. Got it?"

"Yeah, I know, dad," said Miles, catching his dad's eye in the rear view mirror, who smiled at him. He could be pretty tough and strict at times, but his dad was usually just trying to do what was best for him.

" _Last night, a break in at the Oscorp Tower in Manhattan left several laboratories destroyed_ ," came a reporter's voice from over the radio, " _including some of Oscorp's projects to be left permanently destroyed. The suspect of the break-in is believed to be the Prowler, who had been notorious for stealing from Oscorp industries in the past. Luckily, nothing was stolen thanks to the Spiderman, who managed to fight off the Prowler. Unfortunately, the Prowler escaped and his current whereabouts are unknown."_

"Tsk," Jefferson shook his head, turning down the radio, "Spiderman. Thinks he can just swing by and do whatever he wants, whenever he wants. Then, he leaves all the paperwork to us, no care for the real cops who are putting themselves out on the line. Someone really should be keeping all this vigilante justice in check."

Miles didn't really care, he thought Spiderman was pretty neat, but didn't really want to say that in front of his dad. "Okay, dad. We're here. Listen, can you park down the block or something?"

"Why?" Asked his dad, already pulling up right in front of the school.

All the kids, in their full, Visions uniform, turned to stare at the cop car right outside the front gate. Miles cringed, "that's why. I don't want everyone staring at me on my first day."

"Miles," his dad said firmly, turning to the backseat to look at him, "it doesn't matter what they think, remember? Besides, they're just jealous they can't have a dad as cool as me."

Miles shook his head and opened the door, heading to the front to pull out his suitcase, "see you on Friday."

"Hey, Miles, I love you."

Miles rolled his eyes, "yeah, love you too, dad."

His dad hit the siren, which blared loudly for a second, causing everyone to jump and then stare again. Miles cringed, "seriously?"

"Copy that," his dad said, "see you Friday."

He pulled away, leaving Miles in front of the school with everyone now staring at him. Way to go, Miles! What a great first impression. It didn't help that now they were all gonna watch him weakly attempt to drag his suitcase inside. This day couldn't get any worse. He felt his ears go warm under the hot stares of everyone else, but chose to ignore them as he went inside.

This sucked, everyone here knew each other and no one knew who he was. So, he was left to navigate this place by himself. He really did miss his old school.

Brooklyn Visions Academy was very clean and well-kept compared to his other high school. With pristine, white floors and walls lined with rows of green lockers, that weren't covered in chewing gum and were kept perfectly uniform. The staircase was as white and dentist-like as everything else here, and no one was attempting to slide down the banister or skateboard on it. Everyone around him was gathered to the side in there groups, talking between themselves. Of course, they were all friends. At the sight of Miles, they couldn't help but stare at the new kid. But, it didn't help but make him uncomfortable.

Sighing, he tensed his shoulders and continued walking before promptly crashing straight into someone.

"Ah! Merde," said whoever it was, "sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

Miles hadn't been knocked over or anything, _that_ would've been really embarrassing. Still, his pride was a little hurt and he felt a little dazed. Yet, his mom had taught him manners.

"It's okay," he said, "I wasn't looking where I was going either."

Looking up, he noticed it was a girl he was standing in front of. Probably just a inch or so shorter than him, with a dust-coloured, brown hair that was tied back in a high ponytail, though several, shorter strands still fell in front of her face. She had a light, golden complexion and strangely deep green eyes, that looked at him brightly. She was pretty, he supposed, he was a teenager, after all.

"Guess it was both of our faults," she said with a shrug, before peering at him closely, "sorry, what grade are you in? I don't think I recognise you."

"Oh, I'm a sophomore," he said.

"Really? Me too," she looked confused.

"You probably don't recognise me because I'm new," he said, "this is my first day. I'm Miles, by the way, Miles Morales."

"Nice to meet you, Miles," she said, smiling at him, "I'm Emmy. Emmy Thomas."

* * *

 _Thirty Minutes Earlier_

 _Brooklyn, New York_

"I'm not letting you give me a lift on that thing," said Emmy, "I can carry the bag myself. It's only a fifteen minute walk."

"Whatever you say, Emmy," said her mother, not looking up from the newspaper she was reading, "but it would just be easier to let me give you a lift."

"I'm not rocking up to school on the back of my mum's motorbike," said Emmy, "that's just weird and I have a reputation to uphold."

"Hm, I'm sure you do," she nodded, flicking over to the next page of the paper.

Emmy looked a bit like her mother. They had the same green eyes and the same skin tone, though Emmy's was slightly lighter. However, she was shorter (though there was still time for her to grow) and her hair was a far lighter shade than her mom's, whose hair was such a dark shade of brown that it was almost black.

They were both sitting at the kitchen table in their modest apartment in Brooklyn. Her mom lazily reading a copy of the New York Times while Emmy was making her way through a bowl of cereal.

"I'm serious, mom," insisted Emmy, "I'd look pretty lame if I turned up to school on the _back_ of a motorcycle being driven by my mom. It's so uncool."

"You teenagers are so judgy," she sighed, closing the paper and putting it on the table, "I don't ever remember being that judgemental when I was in high school."

"But you were," said another voice, entering the kitchen, "don't listen to your mother, Emmy, she was _the_ most judgemental person to ever set foot in Midtown, though MJ was a close second. She'd look at you funny for even breathing weirdly."

"I pointed that out one time," she said.

"Adara, the kid had asthma," said Harry Osborn, "of course he breathed funny."

"You're up early," observed Emmy, "why?"

"I'm gonna have to go into work early," he said, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk, "there was a break-in last night. Nothing was stolen but now one of my dad's projects has been destroyed, which isn't very helpful and makes my life far too difficult."

Emmy had known Harry her entire life, and had basically become her dad as her actual one was nowhere to be found. He didn't live in there apartment, just bunked there when his husband, Jason, was working out of town, which was surprisingly often. In her younger years, Emmy had coined him 'Uncle Harry' and neither her mom or he had disputed this. The two had known each other since high school and had been close for a long time, so the two were basically siblings at this point.

"Break-in?" Adara raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Harry sighed as he made his own cereal, "the Prowler. Dad reckons he was hired by Roxxon."

"The Prowler broke in and didn't steal anything? His standards are slipping."

Harry shook his head, "I called in Pe-" he stopped himself, "Spiderman to keep an eye on things. My dad was paranoid about a Roxxon trying to steal something and turned out he was right. Anyway, he managed to stop him from stealing whatever he was after, though it got destroyed in the meanwhile, so the Prowler got away empty-handed."

"And you think Roxxon hired him?"

"It wouldn't be the first time Prowler has been hired to do someone else's dirty work," pointed out Harry, "and who else would you hire except America's greatest thief?"

"He can't be that great if he didn't steal anything," Adara pointed out.

Emmy shook her head, "if I was the Prowler, I would've dropped shit and ran the moment I saw Spiderman."

"Don't let Steve hear you using that kind of language," said her mom, warningly, "and what's so scary about a guy in red tights?"

"He can stop a moving car."

"So can you if you press the button at a set of traffic lights."

"You're so funny," Emmy deadpanned.

Emmy didn't think her mother liked Spiderman very much, which she had never quite understood. Her mom knew all the Avengers, Emmy knew that because the Black Widow and Captain America would come round to visit every weekend. Most of the Avengers were old now (or older, in Steve's case) and were probably a decade or so from reaching retirement years. So, younger people like Spiderman tended to do a lot more superheroing than them. He had saved the city and probably the world too on numerous occasions, he seemed like a nice guy and was well liked amongst most of the city. Besides, he was friends with Tony and so was Adara, so surely the two must've met at some point? Yet, whenever Spiderman popped up on screen, her mom would always find a way to scoff and roll her eyes.

"So I've been told," her mother drank the rest of her coffee and stood up, "you need to be heading off soon."

Emmy checked her watch, "I still have ages."

"Then you can get there early," her mom pointed out. "Harry, you do know that MJ's gonna call you, right? How much are you gonna tell her?"

"The same thing everyone else knows," he said, "I don't even know what the project was myself, so she's not getting any answers there. It's one of my dad's top secret ones, top floor and only about five scientists, including himself, working on it."

"Why doesn't he let you in on it?"

"Got too many other things to do."

"Alright, rich boy," Adara rolled her eyes, "you better be going then."

"Christ, you really do want everyone out the apartment this morning. Why? What are you doing?"

"I've gotta go to work at nine, but it's just for a couple meetings so I should be done by midday. Besides, all I'm doing is translating Italian so no problem there."

"What about after that?" Asked Harry, "you gonna mope about all day?"

"What else would she do when I'm gone?" Pointed out Emmy.

"No," said Adara, voice turning cautious, "I'm visiting someone."

"Who?" Harry said before realising, "oh. Come on, Adara, even Natasha thinks you should just leave that jackass alone. You're not getting any younger visiting him every week, and it's not exactly making you a better person either."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this debate again," said Emmy, getting to her feet and grabbing her bag, "I'm gonna shoot. I'll just stop off at Starbucks or something on the way. See you on Friday, mom."

"See you, Emmy," she said, ruffling the girl's hair.

"Bye, Harry," said Emmy, grabbing her suitcase.

"Bye, kiddo," the man waved as Emmy shut the apartment door and headed out for school.

Emmy didn't live what one would call a normal life. Sure, she walked to school with her headphones on and hated homework and exams like any other kid her age. And she fit in just fine, there were just aspects of her life that were unusual. Like the fact that she could partially shapeshift, not as well as her mother but more than the normal person, that was for sure. She was also stronger than most people and had a much higher metabolism, so she ate on a near constant basis. She had basically been raised by the Avengers at some point, and it wasn't like everyone could say that their babysitter was the Winter Soldier.

Her mom was a bit of a paradox, who didn't really speak much about her life. Part of it was probably trauma as, while her mom was happy to talk about defeating Ultron, she was very quiet when it came to instances such as Hydra or any other part of her teenage life. Emmy got broken bits of information from Natasha and Steve, who enjoyed reminiscing on these things like an old, married couple. But her mom was a private and surprisingly closed off person, even to her daughter. She had sworn Emmy to secrecy about her abilities and the 'superhero' aspect of her life. That, and Emmy didn't even know who her dad was. But that was a sore subject, so she chose to avoid it.

As she walked down the street, swerving to the side to avoid an incoming taxi, she did feel pretty normal. Emmy had never lived that angsty, double-life style that Adara had when she was her age, and she felt satisfied that she fit in at her school. Brooklyn Visions Academy. Sure, she wasn't exactly the smartest kid there and she hadn't inherited her mother's talent for languages (though was bilingual, thanks to her mom), but she wasn't stupid and got fine grades, from B to As usually.

As she stood outside the school, she sighed, dreading the idea of another year. School work and homework and all that other work. If you asked her, it was too much work. Plus, sophomore year. That wasn't going to be easier than Freshman year, was it? In fact, it was all downhill from here.

She heard a loud blaring sound of a police siren and jumped. Turning, she saw a boy standing beside a cop car. He wasn't familiar, she thought she would've remembered someone who got driven into school in a cop car from last year. Must be their first day or something. She didn't think much of it as she quickly shouldered through the crowd and into the front entrance.

Her heart sank at the thought of another long week back at school.

"Hey, Emmy!" She glanced to see her friend and roommate, Alice walking up to her.

Alice was popular, pretty and a lot more social than Emmy, which said a lot because Emmy was talkative to the point where people begged her to shut up. Her mom had likened Alice to a girl called Liz, but Emmy hadn't really known who that was. She had blonde, curly hair which was a tad longer and neater than Emmy's with a perfect facial structure and a great figure. Sometimes, puberty loved to bless people.

"Hi, Alice," she returned the greeting, "how's life?"

"Not great now that I'm back here," sighed her friend, "but, did you hear the news?"

"If you're gonna go on about Spiderman again, Al, I already know," she sighed, "and, for the record, I think you should get over him, he's been around since our parents were teenagers, so he's probably, like, fifty."

"Who says I don't like an older man?" Alice joked.

"Ew," Emmy pulled a face.

Being back at school meant homework and schoolwork and teachers yelling at Emmy because she wasn't concentrating, but it also meant seeing friends again, which was the only thing enjoyable about this wretched place. In a way, Emmy enjoyed school, she felt like she fit in and had never been an outsider or one of those weird kids. She wasn't mad popular, but no one was shoving her head in a locker either.

Emmy knew that her mother hadn't ever really fit in or tried to fit in at high school. Unlike Emmy, she had her small group of friends and was happy to stick with that. Then again, she supposed it was understandable. By the time Adara was Emmy's age, she had been through _a lot_ more than her, but sometimes it was just difficult to talk to her mom about these kind of 'trivial' things that mattered to her but didn't matter to her mom.

She checked her watch, "hey, Alice," she said, "I'm just gonna quickly go to the restroom, I'll be right back."

Alice nodded and Emmy went off.

"Ah! Merde," she exclaimed, as she suddenly walked into someone, "sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's okay," said the guy she had walked into, "I wasn't looking where I was going either."

"Guess it was both of our faults," she said before looking at him closer.

He was probably a couple inches taller than her, though was just as skinny. His hair was black and short, neat and in place. He had a dark brown complexion with friendly, brown eyes, though he did seem slightly dazed. Whoops. He was wearing the same uniform as everyone, but it looked a little baggy on him. Oh, and his trainers were bright red, which was pretty distinctive. Emmy didn't think she'd ever seen him before, that or she wasn't as observant as she liked to think. Then again, she wasn't sure how she had ever missed him, he was cuter than at least eighty percent of the guys here.

"Sorry, what grade are you in?" She asked, "I don't think I recognise you."

"Oh, I'm a sophomore," he said.

"Really? Me too," surely she hadn't forgotten _everyone_ over summer.

"You probably don't recognise me because I'm new," he clarified, "this is my first day. I'm Miles, by the way, Miles Morales."

"Nice to meet you, Miles," she said, smiling at him, "I'm Emmy. Emmy Thomas."

"Hey, your police boy, right?" Said some kid. Oh, it was Elijah Kendawi, great.

"What?" Frowned Miles, confused.

"You were the one who got arrested on the way to school, right?" Elijah was a short kid with an upturned nose and a boyish attitude. He was a nerd, like most people in this school, though he liked to make sure people knew that he was better than them.

"What are you talking about?" Emmy furrowed her eyebrows before it hit her, "oh you mean the cop car outside?" She glanced at Miles, "I'm pretty sure he wasn't being arrested."

"That was my dad giving me a lift," said Miles, looking annoyed.

Elijah still looked smug, "I-"

"Elijah, don't you have someone's head to go shove down a toilet?" Cut in Emmy, "cuz you're kinda being a right prick right now."

"You know you like me."

"Va te faire enculer."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," he raised his arms up in surrender, "I'll leave you with convict boy here-"

"Hey," Miles suddenly lunged forward.

Emmy stopped him, "seriously, Elijah, fuck off if you know what's good for you." The boy gave a casual shrug and wandered away, she turned to Miles, "he's just trying to provoke you so you get into trouble, he's not worth it."

"Good to know I've made a good first impression," he sighed, shoving his hands in his blazers.

"You shouldn't care what Elijah thinks," she said, "there's a group of posh fucks in this school who think they're better than everyone else because they get alright grades."

"He wouldn't have fit in at my old school. Prick."

"He's still a prick here," she said, "and I wouldn't worry about the whole cop car thing, most people in this school don't give a crap to pay enough attention or remember those kind of things."

Miles relaxed a little, "any other tips about surviving here?"

Emmy thought about it for a few seconds, "there's a side door next to the canteen that they use to take out the trash but always forget to lock, it's a good place if you wanna try and sneak out."

"You do that often?"

"Sometimes being stuck in school all week is exhausting," she shrugged, "anyway, I gotta go."

Oh, right. He had been so distracted he had forgotten that she had probably been going somewhere before they bumped into each other. "Oh, right, see you around then."

She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away, "yeah, I hope I see you around, Miles."

* * *

 **Meanwhile**

 _ **Oscorp Tower, Manhattan**_

Norman Osborn, CEO of Oscorp Industries, stepped into the elevator and rode it all the way to one of the top floors, dressed in an all grey business suit with a red tie as he walked down towards the laboratory.

He had called in his son, Harry, to help out with the general chaos around the tower after last night's break in. But he was late, typical. So, Norman was left to sort everything out himself as he opened the door to the scene of the crime, the door which was barely on its hinges after the fight. Inside, there were no police, just other scientists searching around the la, attempting to tidy up broken glass and spilt chemicals.

Norman looked around and sighed, this was his experiment he had been working on for so long, to see it in this state was almost like losing a child.

"What's the damage?" He asked one of the scientists who stood up straight.

"The Prowler didn't manage to take anything," said the blonde scientist, he thought her name was Franchesca or something, "but, in the fight, they did manage to destroy almost everything."

"Including?"

"The vial of the OZ-Formula was smashed and the must have substance evaporated or other because we can't find any traces of it."

Norman swore under his breath, "what about the mutants?"

"All the spiders were crushed," she paused, "well…"

"Well?"

"We've retrieved all the crushed bodies of all the spiders to attempt to see what we can recover from them," she said, "but, there's one of the spiders missing."

"Missing?" He repeated before letting out a sigh of frustration, "as in it could be wondering around anywhere? Biting anyone?"

"More likely that it got carried away by someone else, sir," she said, "possibly it crawled onto Spiderman or the Prowler during the fight."

He put his head in his hands, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he tapped his foot, "shit," he muttered, before looking at all the scientists, "clean up in here and then get back to work. Do anything to recreate that formula."

Now he had to worry about _that_ formula running around in the city in the form of a spider, able to bite anyone. Who knew what that meant? Another superhero running around? Or another super villain destroying things?

Who knew, maybe there'd be another damn Spiderman.

* * *

 **Let me know what y'all think of this chapter!**

 **Next Chapter: The Avengers! Flashback! And Uncle Aaron!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, okay, I figured out how this story is working. Chapter's are gonna be longer than in Hidden in Plain Sight because, unlike that where we follow one or two POV characters per chapter, in this one, we rotate through several per chapter. The main storylines are: Adara, Peter, the kids and flashbacks. Eventually, Adara Peter, Miles and Emmy's stories will all join to make one story, just let me figure out those plot threads first. There will be at least one flashback per chapter and they'll mainly be from Adara's point of view following her bumpy pregnancy ride, going through finding out, her divorce with Peter and actually giving birth. Yeah, should be fun.**

 **Robotics Fangirl: Haha,** _ **woah**_ **, that would be a plot twist but not quite. Though, I haven't really thought about putting Flash into this story huh. Let's just say the person Adara was visiting in the last chapter is a familiar face from the old story but he's quite an old man at this point and no one liked him or will ever will like him (Adara's mainly talking to him out of pity). Basically, you'll find out in this chapter.**

 **dhnysports88: All will be explained gradually.**

 **blueerimartian: Miles has my heart, I love him. Emmy will have abilities (that's what you get for having two superpowered parents) but y'all will have to wait a bit longer for it to be revealed.**

 **Fiona: They're in their late thirties in this story.**

 **21sshafrath: A lot of what happened between Adara and Peter in this story is similar to the other one (like the Homecoming storyline, Uncle Ben, the Hydra stuff just slightly differently) but they discovered their identities in some other way as Civil War didn't happen, how exactly isn't that important. Adara and Peter's relationship is probably gonna be on of my favourite things to write and their is absolutely a chance for something to happen again.**

 **Books-and-Cleverness-394: Oui! Miles is from Spiderverse which is where I fell in love with him. I'd totally recommend watching it, they've made a way better exciting Miles origin than the slightly more condensed version in this story (only when you get in the chance though).**

 **SnuffleTruff: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the first chapter thank God. Whoops, I might have made a mistake in the last chapter, I'll check later but Emmy is a brunette, not dark-haired like her mother but more of a lighter brown like her dad. Also, I think Peter would totally have a dad bod at this point in the story lmao.**

 _ **Thanks to: SofiaisCountingStars, rosymax9, InstantWaterJustAddWater, Keystone0913, Assbitch67, NotCurrent, dhnysports88, Robotics Fangirl, Ely998, JAllen1447, blueerimartian, Fiona, BrigitteHere, Tankpwns, 21sshafrath, ForgeandGred4Ever, Rdrtrandom dude, Lucas27, AleksYana, KrypticKoala, Allons-y New York, cabrera1234, Imprisoned Wings, Pandora Merga Black, pushtrak1, stonyx30547, Books-and-Cleverness-394, ComicNerdForLife, TellaBells, SamanthaCarterONeil, SnuffleTruff, Phenomenal Excelsior and Kamille Pitre for either leaving a review or following/favouriting on the last chapter! I'm so glad to see people from HIPS coming over to read this one! Seriously, thanks for all the support!**_

* * *

" _I was so blinded by you, now I cry_

 _Just thinkin' 'bout the fool that I was_

 _I was such a fool_

 _I'm alone now but it's better for me_

 _I don't need all your negativity_ "

* * *

 **Chapter Two:**

 **Thursday, 4th September**

 _ **Brooklyn, New York**_

 **Morning**

Miles Morales, about four days into his first week at Visions Academy, was really, _really_ tired. Compared to his old school, the workload was a lot heavier and people seemed to actually concentrate during lessons and cared about how they did. Definitely not like his old school, where he and his friends were more than happy to shoot hoops on the courts rather than do homework.

Speaking of friends, Miles definitely had a lot less here then he used to. He supposed it was a side-effect of being the new kid, but he also felt like he didn't really fit in. His roommate was a bit of a nerd, always reading those Avengers comics that were made after New York and constantly tapping away on his laptop. But, he was fun to talk to, Miles supposed. And then there was Emmy, who seemed to be more than happy to speak to him but, then again, was more than happy to speak to _anyone_. She had a habit of talking his ear off, which was useful in maths class but the conversation never really seemed to go anywhere, despite the near-constant chatter. And, while she was nice, Miles got the feeling she was a lot more popular than him. Then again, she had been going here longer.

Now, it was Thursday morning and, despite passing out the moment he hit the bed, he still felt exhausted. As his alarm went off, his phone beeping loudly next to his ear, he stared at the ceiling and sighed. He had English first period, could it get any worse? He just wanted to sleep and draw, was it too much to ask?

He rolled over and glanced down, his roommate had the bottom bunk and was still fast asleep.

"Hey, Ganke," he said, "you gotta get up, man." No reply. "Ganke?"

Still nothing. He grabbed his pillow and dropped it down, hitting the snoring Ganke square in the face. He snorted and shot up, looking dazed.

"It's morning, dude," he said, "we have English first period."

Still looking very tired, Ganke rubber his eyes and squinted up at Miles above him, "you done the essay?"

"Half of it," said Miles, but it was more like half.

"Miss Walken is gonna kill you."

"Whatever, man, I'm too tired."

They got up and got ready and ate breakfast. The usual routine that, even though only being here for a few days, he had felt like he was doing his entire life. Then he dragged himself down to English, his backpack feeling heavier and heavier every day, and sat at his seat in the back, beside the window. Beside him, Emmy sat down, looking very awake.

"You look tired," she remarked.

"I am," he said.

"Visions is a pain in the ass," she looked at him, surprisingly silent for a second as she studied him with scrutinising green eyes, "I have an idea for what might make you feel better."

"Are you gonna suggest a spa day?"

"No," she rolled her eyes, "I mean you sneak out."

He looked at her, confused, "how am I supposed to do that?"

"You know the side door in the canteen, where they take out the trash? I told you about it at the start of the week, I think. " He nodded. "Well, they never actually lock it. If you make it like you're going to the restroom next to the canteen, then you can sneak out that way."

"What if I get caught?"

"I never have and I've been doing it since I was a freshman," she smiled, "besides, if you do, you could always say you were trying to smuggle food from the cafeteria, they care less about that."

"So what do you do when you sneak out?"

"I just go home for the night," she said, "sometimes school gets to be too much so it's easier to go home and nap."

"Like home home?" He said, "your mom lets you do that?"

"My mom couldn't give a crap, honestly," she said. From what Miles had heard about Emmy's mom from her ramblings, this held up as true.

"My dad would kill me," he sighed, leaning on his hand.

"Well, do you have anywhere else you could go?"

He thought about it, though he didn't for long, "Well, I could hang out at my uncle's, I guess. He's pretty chill with these kinda things."

"Oh yeah, you mentioned him."

"He's always doing some kind of out of town business but he's around this week."

"Then go hang with him, it's good for, like, mental health and stuff," she said and he looked at her, "what? Alice reads up on all that stuff, not me. Anyway, I'd recommend you go, it's not like anyone's gonna snitch if they see you and you _probably_ won't get caught because teachers never check around there."

"And you're sure about this?" He checked, "it's only my first week and I don't want to get detention _that_ early in the year."

"I'm ninety per cent sure you won't get caught."

"Ten per cent is still quite a bit."

"It's not that much," she said, "Listen, I'm certain you won't get caught. I've done it at least ten times and have never been seen. So, there won't be any problems, I'm eighty-five per cent sure."

"Eighty-five? That's a bit of a decrease."

"Is it? I didn't notice."

"Thomas, Morales," said Miss Walken, their English teacher, who was standing at the front of the class with arms folded as she tapped her foot impatiently, watching them, "anything you'd like to share with the class."

"No, miss," said Emmy, glancing at Miles.

"Sorry," He said, a little sheepishly.

The rest of the class passed without disturbance, though the two (mainly Emmy) were still continuing the conversation in muttered whispers as they breezed through several scenes of Othello. Miles was still very tired, but Emmy didn't seem to stay quiet for long enough for him to start falling asleep.

Just before the lesson ended and everyone was packing up and filing out the classroom, Miss Walken called over Miles.

"What is it?" He asked when the class was empty.

"It's about the essay I asked you to write for the first act of Othello," she began and he knew instantly what this was about, "you seem to have taken it upon yourself to only write half of it. This is the first homework assignment you've had in my class, Miles, and it's honestly disappointing."

"Sorry," his brain wracked itself to come up with an excuse, "it's just this place is a lot different from my old school and everything's kind of piling up on me and-"

"I get it, Miles," she said sympathetically, "and this essay is good so far, you just need to develop it so it's finished. I'll give you until Monday," she said, "if it's not done by then it's detention. Understand?"

He sighed, "yes, Miss."

She said he could leave so he dragged himself out of the room to see Emmy leaning on the opposite wall across from the class. Oh, she had waited for him, that was unexpected.

"What was that about?" She asked with eyebrows raised.

"Homework," he sighed, rubbing his head, "which door did you say to use for sneaking out again?"

* * *

 **About Sixteen Years ago**

 _Peter was never home anymore. It wasn't his fault, his new job was time-consuming and left hardly any time for Spiderman. So, he spent any opportunity he could as Spiderman and would slink into their bedroom at one or two o'clock in the morning and plonk down beside her. She would usually be awake or half asleep when he rocked in and was more than happy to curl up to him as he cuddled her and the two drifted off._

 _They were in their early twenties, fresh out of college and pretty broke but happy and in love. Somewhere in between all that, they had got married. She was never sure how that happened, but she sure as hell didn't mind. The Bluebell popped up every once and awhile, to deal with bigger events and, sometimes, to help Peter or the Avengers. Yet, she was much more focused on a normal life and wasn't as happy letting her life be fulfilled by her superhero alter ego. Of course, Steve and Natasha and the rest of them were still important parts of her life, she wouldn't be complete without them. But they were family first and Avengers second. She saw them every once and a while, every week or two weeks. They lived near the city and neither her or Peter planned to leave New York, so it was easy to visit them or vice versa._

 _Hydra was quiet, they were basically nothing nowadays. If one of her contacts did give her any information related to it, she would quickly squash it. They had no clear leader. Pierce, Strucker, List and all the others were dead. Luka? Well…_

 _Either way, Adara didn't have a clear threat from them. And, even if she did, she could handle herself and so could Peter. She wasn't happy with this life, they were exhausted and didn't have enough money but, despite that, she knew they just had to get through it to hit the good times._

 _But, at the rate this was going, the good times may never come._

 _Two lines._

 _She sat in the bathroom, small and a little cramped, with back against the wall of the bath. Her mouth was agape, almost frozen as she stared at it._

 _Two lines._

 _She was fucking pregnant._

 _It had been a small feeling in her gut, she was late by a couple weeks but she had always been a little all over the place, her body's biology was a bit messed up considering she could shape-shift into a man. But this was different, so she had checked._

 _And now she sat on the bathroom floor with a pregnancy test in her hands with no idea what the future could hold._

 _She was twenty-two, broke, superpowered and had a lot of enemies. And now she was staring at her biggest one, a kid._

 _Adara had zero experience with babies or kids younger than ten and Peter was the same. Oh, God, and this kid was not going to be normal. He/She/it was going to have abilities. Like Adara had abilities as a kid, which was what Hydra led to killing her mother and Gregory and ruining her life. Jesus, she had only just felt like her life was running a normal course._

 _This changed everything._

 _She didn't cry, though she did take a few seconds to stand up and throw the pregnancy test in the trash. She left the bathroom and stumbled into bed._

 _But before the thought of sleep, she heard the window open and realised Peter was coming in._

 _Oh, Jesus._

Adara was woken up from her dream by the sound of someone in her house. She felt relieved when she opened her eyes and realised she was in her own room, not in that small bathroom with the world collapsing in her and everything that came after. The dream, while seemingly just a memory, was anxiety-inducing and not something she liked reliving. Yet, her mind seemed to love torturing her with that same dream every night.

Then she remembered why she had woken up in the first place.

Someone was in her house.

She listened closer, there was definitely someone in her house. She dug under her pillow, feeling the shape of her handgun and took it out. She got out of bed and crept to her door, hearing someone shuffling around in the kitchen.

Clicking off the safety, she carefully moved around her apartment, knowing exactly which floorboards were sensitive to creaking and which weren't. And, as she rounded the corner, she turned and pulled her gun on…

"Barnes!" She exclaimed, "I told you to knock when you came in."

"You gave me a key," he said with a pizza slice in his mouth.

"That doesn't mean you can go sneaking into my house and eating my leftover pizza which is the only thing I have to eat tonight," she closed the fridge door, "let me know when you're coming round next time so I don't end up pulling a gun on you." She tucked the weapon in her back pocket.

"It was kind of a last minute thing," he said, "I was in the neighbourhood and well…" She already knew what this was about, Bucky had come round enough times whenever he was in Brooklyn because of it.

She rolled her eyes, "I'll get the toolbox." It was just in the utility next door, so she could still talk as she stepped on her tiptoes to grab it from the top shelf, "I told you to get Shuri to check it out. It's been popping out of place a lot recently."

"Yes, I'll just ask the head scientist and princess of Wakanda to fix my arm," he said sardonically, "I'm an old man, Adara, it was bound to happen at some point."

"You were always an old man, Buck," she said, reentering the kitchen and putting the toolbox of the table, "how did it even end up being dislocated again? I thought you and Steve were having a pensioners day out in Brooklyn where you walk around and point at things and remember stuff from, oh, a hundred years ago?"

"We were," he said as he inspected a screwdriver, "but then he went off to some meeting and I decided to investigate this lead I saw about alien technology being sold in Brooklyn. Then, I walked in right in the middle of a deal and, to make a long story short, I won."

"Your arm didn't."

"I could beat them with one arm."

"Only Emmy listens to your bragging, Barnes," she said as he continued to work on his arm with one of the screwdrivers, "where's Steve? Still in his meeting?"

"He should be out by now," he said.

"And you haven't let him know in any way that you got into a fight and are now here?"

"Nope," he shook his head, "but he'll probably turn up within the next five minutes or so."

Either God was laughing at them, or Steve _was_ God and enjoyed some good, coincidental timing as there was a knock at the door. Neither of them needed to say a 'speak of the devil' because, one, Steve wasn't the devil and, two, it would've been too obvious a joke to make. So, she left Bucky to do his arm-fixing as she opened the front door.

"You have a key," she said when she opened the door.

"It's polite to knock," he said.

"Well, then come inside, Mr Manners," she said, "your one-armed boyfriend is in the kitchen."

"Is Emmy at school?" Asked Steve as he came inside, taking off his coat.

"All week," she nodded, "and I've got work in a couple of hours so you both have better cleared out by then. You want a drink?"

"I'm fine," said Steve.

"Beer," said Bucky.

"It's not even midday, Buck," said Steve but Adara was already getting a bottle out the fridge. It's not like either super-soldier were affected by it.

"You seen the news?" Asked Steve.

"Which story?" She sat down at the table they had all gathered around, "the one about the President doing something bad? Or a politician doing something bad? Or a celebrity doing something bad? Or an Avenger doing-"

"We get the joke," said Bucky, "he means the break-in at Oscorp."

"Harry said nothing was stolen," she said, "just a lot was broken. Which is expected when you have Peter fighting, he was never that controlled." Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance but she kept talking. "Why are you bringing it up?"

"Norman's pretty pissed, according to Tony," explained Steve, "naturally he suspects Roxxon, but looking into it, Roxxon's been doing deals with some not so great people."

"Roxxon is useless," she pointed out, "they steal from others because they're so behind and, even if they do end up successfully stealing something which is rare, then they wouldn't know what to do with the technology other than blowing themselves up."

"If they're hiring people like the Prower to do their dirty work then that might suggest they have more power than they should."

"What do you expect me to do about it, Steve? Beat them up?"

"I'm just saying the city might not be as safe as it used to be," he pointed out, "just be careful."

"I'm always being careful," she sighed, "ever since I had Emmy, my entire life has been about being careful." No more husband, no more Bluebell, no more risking her life for the thrill of it or to protect others. Now it was getting paid to translate meetings, making pasta every weekend because her cooking knowledge was so limited and making sure her kid was getting good grades in her classes.

"Speaking of being careful," began Steve tentatively and, from beside Adara, Bucky was shaking his head to signal him to shut up. It wasn't working. "Did you see _him_ again this week."

Adara looked at him, "yes," she said stiffly, "I stopped in for half an hour on Monday after work."

"Did he say anything?"

"He's an old man, Steve," she rolled her eyes, "and has been locked up for two decades, I don't think he's gonna be spilling any beans anytime soon. Besides, what's there to say? Hydra is nothing at this point." Steve didn't say anything. "I know you don't trust or like him Steve and neither do I, obviously."

"Then why do you visit him every week in prison?"

"Pity," she said frankly, "all I'm doing is bringing him the Washington Post and playing chess with him. He cares for nothing else at this point. You can't get sensitive about me seeing Luka everytime we meet."

"I don't trust him, Adara."

"He's, like, sixty and has nothing better to do than do crosswords," she said, "he has visiting privileges, someone might as well visit every once and a while to see how senile he's getting."

"Can we move on from this topic?" Said Bucky, "because it ends in an argument every time and, frankly, I don't care."

"I'm with Barnes," she declared, slightly passive-aggressively towards a fairly disgruntled Steve, "how's Natasha doing?"

"Oh, she's having a whale of a time," Steve said, "in between sunbathing and doing her job, she leaves messages constantly. It's getting annoying."

"She was doing that to me," said Adara, "she gave up when I blocked her."

"Wait, what's she doing?" Asked Bucky, looking up.

"A mission in Barcelona to deal with a terrorist threat over there," Adara explained, "though she seems to be treating it more like a vacation than work."

"I'd do the same," nodded Bucky, "I'd kill for a holiday right now, I'm exhausted. Oh, got it." There was a mechanical, clicking sound and Bucky's vibranium arm had slotted back into place. He placed the screwdriver back into the toolbox and glanced at Adara. "Alright, I'm sorted then."

"Then clear off," Adara said, "I'm gonna get showered and I don't need you two lurking around, eating my pizza."

"I'll stop off at the weekend when Nat gets back," said Steve, getting to his feet.

"Right," She said, already shooing them out the door, "just make sure that next time you turn up, all your limbs are in place."

"Hey, that wasn't my fault," argued Bucky.

Adara gave him a condescending nod and closed the door on them.

* * *

Peter was running late again. Thank God he was Spiderman otherwise he would turn up at his job at least an hour late.

Yes, the superhero vigilante life was not glamorous or spectacular. Kids pointed with awed expressions when Spiderman swung overhead or cheered and clapped when he took down that bad guy or this bad guy. But no one knew that Spiderman slept through his alarm and was behind on rent. To most people, Spiderman's worst problem was the unflattering articles in the Daily Bugle but, really, that was something he was used to at this point. Really, his life was far from perfect, and being Spiderman was starting to become more of a cost than anything else.

But, it was convenient in times like this when he was late for work and the fastest way to get there was via swinging from rooftop to rooftop.

He landed on the roof of the building and quickly webbed his backpack to a wall, taking off his suit (as he had his work clothes underneath) and stuffing it in the bad. He checked his watch, five minutes late. Not too bad and it wasn't like the doc would even notice, he always had his head in the clouds. Bless him, honestly, Peter didn't know how he ended up with a boss as fair as him. Sure, Peter could've worked for Tony and, yeah, he would've loved that. Yet he hadn't really known what it was, but when he had read about the work the Doc was doing, he had turned down Tony's offer and instantly wanted to work for him instead. It wasn't all that bad, the work they were doing here was funded by Stark industries which Tony used as an excuse to pop in every once and a while to see how Peter was doing.

Now dressed in a lab coat, Peter opened the roof door and quickly headed down the stairs to the laboratory.

"Morning, Doc," he greeted his boss, "sorry I'm a bit late."

"Morning, Peter!" He said, sounding rather excited, "and you're not late, you're right on time." He wasn't, the Doc just had a funny way of speaking.

Doctor Otto Octavius, thought Peter, didn't have a single bad bone in his body. His heart was good and so was his work. The two of them had been developing prosthetic limbs that could resemble normal, human limbs and worked just as well. It involved finding a way to wire the prosthetic to the brain so it could be controlled like any other leg or arm. Similar to that of the Winter Soldier but, they had to make it so it was available to everyone, and not just one Avenger. Which meant they had to use relatively cheap tech to get it working, none of that over-expensive Vibranium or other.

"I think I've managed to get this working," he said, "take a look."

He was a rather stout man with tired eyes, a balding head and greying hair. Yet, he still seemed to be as spry as the days of his youth as he stared at the single, prosthetic arm on the table, attached to a stand. Around his forehead was _the_ headband they had been working on.

"Woah, Doc," Peter took a step forward, "be careful, we haven't tested this out properly like this before."

"I think we've made a breakthrough," he said, typically ignoring his lab-hand's warning, "watch."

Even Peter fell silent as Doc turned on the headband and, slowly and stiffly, the fingers of the hand began to move. At first, it was tiny, like someone was just stretching their fingers after a long time writing but, then, the whole arm began to move.

"Holy crap," muttered Peter before raising his voice, "this is amazing Doc."

"Wait," said his boss and Peter noticed a mug sitting on the table. Oh, he was trying to pick that up.

The arm stretched out, this was the first time they had ever been able to move anything beyond the fingers, but now the prosthetic seemed to be working at least up to the elbow as it reached for the mug and closed its fake fingers around it.

And then it spontaneously combusted.

"Ow!" Exclaimed the doc as Peter quickly took the headband off of his head before his boss' head could set itself on fire too. Then, he grabbed the fire extinguisher and quickly put out the burning prosthetic.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "damn, we were close." He glanced back at the Doc whose expression was unreadable, "sorry, Doc, how you're feeling?"

He glanced at Peter and, to his surprise, broke out in a smile, "that was amazing, Parker! We're closer than we've ever been before."

Always the optimist, Peter admired that. Otto had lived significantly more years than Peter (who wasn't exactly young himself) and, despite how tired he looked, he seemed far more energised and happy than the younger man could ever dream to be. Peter just felt sleepy all the time.

"It might be a fault with the wiring in the headband," said Peter, "I'll take a look at it."

"I'll check the programming," Doc looked thoughtful, "there might have been a mistake there."

Peter hoped not because he'd done all of that himself.

As he got to work, a subject he had been meaning to bring up with Doc all week but had forgotten popped into his mind again and he figured he might as well say it now before it slipped his mind again.

"Hey, Doc," He said, "I forgot to ask. You heard about the break-in at Oscorp, right?"

"Yes, of course," he nodded, "all over the news."

"Well, I figured because you used to work for Oscorp," he began tentatively, knowing that Otto wasn't a fan of chatting about his old job, "you'd know a bit about their rivalry with Roxxon, you know? Because people are saying that Roxxon hired the Prowler to steal something."

"Wouldn't surprise me," said Otto, "Roxxon and Oscorp have always had a deep rivalry, deeper than they had with Stark industries anyway," Peter remembered the jokey quips he and Harry would exchange about Oscorp and Stark industries but neither were serious and he was pretty sure Tony and Norman were friends anyway. "Roxxon is a massive conglomerate so have more money but are nowhere near as efficient or well-liked as Oscorp. Norman and Donald Roxxon never got along anyway."

"I just don't understand what Roxxon would want to steal."

"They were probably trying to get to some energy efficiency thing. Roxxon is one of the biggest producers or greenhouse gases, which isn't getting them great press."

Peter thought back to his fight with the Prowler and the room he was trying to steal from and reckoned that Otto was probably wrong. In the lab, Peter had seen cages of animals and insects and a strange serum, nothing looked related to producing energy or anything like that. That left Peter at another dead end, hiring the Prowler to steal something meant you were pretty desperate to get your hands on it. Which meant they would probably try again.

Peter just wanted to figure out what Oscorp was experimenting that they wanted to keep under wraps and Roxxon wanted to steal. He just wanted to be sure it was nothing to worry about. Maybe he should ask Harry, though he had claimed to not know anything about it. Peter didn't think Harry was lying, he just thought that maybe he could get Harry to ask his dad what this was all about.

Call it paranoia, but Peter's senses rarely failed him. And he just wanted to make sure his city was safe.

* * *

That night, Miles snuck out. Ganke had hardly noticed him leave the room as he tapped away at his keyboard, he doubted his roommate cared anyway. His destination: The side door in the canteen where they took up the trash. The door that, according to Emmy, they always forgot to lock.

And, not that he ever doubted her, Emmy was right. He checked to make sure the coast was clear and turned the handle to reveal the door was unlocked and easy to sneak out of. That probably wasn't good for security measures. No matter, he planned to be back before anyone even knew he was gone.

Conveniently, his didn't live far away at all, hardly a few blocks away. Despite the closeness to the school and to where Miles lived, they rarely visited Aaron and he rarely visited them. Usually, Miles would take himself. Aaron would tell stories of all the cool, rebellious stuff he and Miles' dad used to do as siblings before his dad became a straight-laced cop. Miles didn't know how much to believe him, his dad rarely ever stepped a toe out of line. He was a good, fair cop who followed the law to a T, he was a good, fair father for Miles too. However, he was a teenager and wasn't interested in sucking up to school rules or government laws, and had a knack for street art and graffiti. So, while his dad made sure this hobby was kept in check, Aaron often encouraged him. That's why he loved his uncle so much. With him, he could be free.

He climbed up the fire escape with no problem and his head popped up at Aaron's window. He was inside, sitting on the couch and scrolling through his phone. Grinning, Miles knocked on the window.

For a second, Aaron looked vaguely alarmed until he saw who it was. Rolling his eyes, he stood up and opened the window.

"You could come through the door," he said, he had a pretty thick Brooklyn accent, "you know, like a normal person."

"This is more fun," he said as he clambered in awkwardly and tripped over his own feet, falling flat on his face. "I meant to do that," he muttered, feeling himself growing hot as his uncle looked down at him amused.

"Need a hand?"

Miles took it and got back to his feet.

"I thought you were supposed to be in school," he said as he moved back to the kitchen counter, Miles figured he was making dinner for himself, "at that fancy academy you told me you got a place at. What was it, Visions?"

"Yeah, that's the one," he shrugged casually, dumping his jacket and backpack on the couch, "but I figured I'd sneak out for the night. It was really easy," he wasn't even bragging, a baby could've snuck out of that school with its eyes closed.

"Uh-huh," he nodded, "I got leftover Chinese if you want it."

"Sounds cool."

He handed him one of the takeaway boxes and the conversation continued.

"So how's your first week going?"

"It's more work than my old place," he said through a mouth of Chow Mein, "but you know, it's not that hard. The people there are a bit nerdy," understatement of the century, "but they're chill, I guess."

"Any girls?" Aaron raised an eyebrow.

"Well, there's one," he said with a smirk, "her name's Emmy. She's pretty cool and she's totally into me." A lie, Emmy probably had no interest in him, the new kid, but it was important to brag to his uncle. He looked up to him a lot, the last thing he wanted was Aaron thinking he wasn't popular.

"Oh yeah?" Aaron sat up, "you know how to talk to her, right?"

"Yeah, obviously," Miles paused, "but tell me anyway."

"Alright, when you see her in the corridor, you gotta be cool. Don't be all chatty and over the top, you gotta be a little distant. Chicks, they dig that. Think its hot."

"But your single."

"I don't date girls, Miles," Aaron said frankly, "I get girls."

"Okay," said Miles before growing in confidence, "okay. So I just gotta be cool with her, don't be full on."

"Exactly," he nodded, "you don't see her, she sees you. And when she comes up to say hi, you hit her with that 'hey.'"

"Hey?" He repeated, "just that, 'hey?'"

"Obviously you gotta talk to her a bit, but only a bit."

"Emmy usually does most of the talking."

"Then let her talk," he said, "don't interrupt, just watch her. Like I said, girls dig that."

"Alright, alright," he nodded, "I got it. Be cool, that's easy."

Aaron smiled and ruffled his hair, "okay, c'mon, show me what you've been working on."

"Oh, right," he dug into his backpack and drew out his sketchpad, flicking to the most recent page, "it's inspired by the play we're doing in English class, kinda came out of nowhere."

Aaron tilted his head as he looked at the art, it was a bold piece of the silhouetted cityscape of New York with bright, white lights shining through the windows of buildings. Behind the city, was a massive, black spider with vivid green eyes which rose above New York with its spindly legs. At the bottom of the city silhouette, the words 'green-eyed monster' was written in that same, poison green as the spider's eyes.

"This is sick, Miles," he said, "you do this this week?"

"Instead of my English homework," he nodded and shrugged like it was nothing.

"You thought about where you gonna put it up?"

"Well," he thought about it, "it'd have to be somewhere where my dad wouldn't find it because he'll instantly know it was me and then kill me."

"I got a place, I'd go with you but I'm working this weekend," he said as he quickly wrote down an address, "it's down a disused railway track, it's pretty cool."

Miles looked cautious, "won't I get caught?"

"No way," Aaron shook his head, "believe me when I said it disused, and it's not far from here actually. It'll be as easy as sneaking out of school was." If it were _that_ easy, then it wouldn't be a problem. Miles considered it, taking the address Aaron wrote down and stuffing it in his pocket. "Hey, and you can take that girl with you."

"Emmy?" Miles glanced up, "no way, she'd probably hate it."

"Are you kidding, Miles?" Aaron rolled his eyes, "chicks love art. And they love an artist. Show her what you got and she'll love it."

"I don't really know her," he said, "and if I asked her, she'd probably see it as like a date."

"Then don't act like its a date," he said, "it's only a date if you say its a date, jus' be like 'hey, wanna hang? I got something cool to show you' or something."

"Okay," he said, still sounding rather hesitant, but he trusted his Uncle's advice, "hey, thanks for the Chow Mein."

"No problem," his uncle took the box off of him and carried that and his own back into the kitchen.

"Hey, so are you working the whole weekend?" Miles asked, as his uncle messed around in the kitchen, throwing stuff away and taking a bottle of beer out the fridge.

"Yeah," he nodded and Miles noticed a spiderweb on the corner of the couch, "I'll be pretty busy for the whole of next week depending on how the job goes." Miles reached forward and waved the cobweb away, not thinking much more about it. "So I might be hard to get in contact with."

"Just call me when your back in town," said Miles, "I'll break out of school again and tell you how the not-date went."

"Try not to make a habit out of that," Aaron said, "if your dad ever found, I'm dead."

"Me and you both- ow!"

He muttered the last part as he felt something bite his hand. He looked down to see a small, strangely coloured, red and blue, spider latched onto his hand. He looked at it, the bite hadn't really hurt, just pinched for a millisecond. He stared at it, and then flicked it away, not putting any more thought into it.

"You good?" Asked Aaron as he sat back down on the couch with a bottle in hand.

"Yeah, yeah," Miles nodded, "something just bit me, it's all."

"I haven't sprayed any bug spray in here for a bit," Aaron said, "I probably should. Probably all kind of shit buzzing around in here."

Miles glanced to see the spider dead on the floor, he must've flicked it harder than intended. Oh well, it was just a spider.

And then he looked at his hand, just a spider bite.

* * *

 **A/N: Ha, you wish Miles. Whoop, the ball's really rolling on this story now. Miles had been bitten, we've met Peter's boss (is the name familiar, by any chance) and Steve and Bucky were unintentionally written a lot gayer than I expected. Oh well, I guess I can leave it up to interpretation. It feels weird not having a thing at the end of each chapter but I can't add in incorrect quotes when I'm two chapters in and most of the characters haven't even met each other yet lmao.**

 **Next chapter will contain some more origin story action, Emmy action, probably Harry and other action.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Um hi.**

 **I don't really have an explanation for this several month disappearance other than I just got lazy but, for about two weeks, I've realised how much I missed writing this story. Like, I've still been writing, but I've missed Hidden in Plain Sight and everything related to it. This story has put me through hell at periods but I still love it.**

 **So I'm back. With a chapter. It's long so I hope that makes up for the fact that I haven't updated since like february. A lotta whacky shit happens, I think I might've been high when writing sections of this but the plot is sort of starting at this point, I guess. Either way, it was fun to write so enjoy….. If you want to….**

 **Ely998: I didn't mean for that scene to be so gay but I guess that's just how it is now (and I'm not entirely against it lol).**

 **SnuffleTruff: Lmao it's probably not difficult to mix them up, they are both from Spiderman/OC stories.**

 **avengersobsessed22: I'm glad you like it!**

 **Happy guest: Not gonna lie, this review was kind of what inspired me to crack open the google document again so thanks for the lovely review!**

* * *

" _I am leaving_

 _This is starting to feel like_

 _It's right before my eyes_

 _And I can taste it_

 _It's my sweet beginning_ "

* * *

 **Chapter Three:**

 **Friday, 5th September**

 _ **Brooklyn, New York**_

 **Just after Midnight**

Somehow, the walk back from Aaron's to Visions was longer. Every step felt like it took a minute, his palms felt clammy and his forehead was drenched in sweat. He hadn't left the apartment that long ago, but he had been fine then. It was only a few minutes ago did this sudden wave of nausea had hit him in the middle of crossing a street, and then a taxi had promptly smacked into him. He had been a little dazed by it, and then the brightly coloured lights and billboards of Brooklyn at night had dazed him even more, and he had thrown up in an alleyway with a homeless man watching him.

Maybe it hadn't been just a spider bite.

How far away was the academy? He felt like he had been walking for hours (it had been five minutes) and he wasn't even sure if he was going the right way. New York was upside down. Well, it wasn't, it just felt that way as he stumbled through the streets, looking like a drunk kid, the kind that got cops to give him a second glance. He really hoped his dad wasn't working a patrol tonight.

He got a couple strange looks from those who passed by, one lady even stopped to ask if he were okay. At one point, he was fairly certain a group of grown men were laughing at him as he tripped over his own feet, but they looked just as messy as he did (probably drunk or high or something) and he was too out of it to really feel self conscious. Finally, after what felt like ages, he reached the academy.

VISIONS ACADEMY, the sign was noisy (could signs be noisy?).

No, wait this was the front entrance, he needed to go through the side entrance. God, he was such a dumbass. He really wanted to go to sleep.

Maybe he could pass out on the front steps here and let the janitor find him in the morning. No, Miles, that was a bad idea. Go to the side entrance, Miles, before someone catches you. Sighing, he rubbed his eyes and trudged back around the school to the canteen door.

Without paying much attention, he pushed it open and strolled right in. the school was dark and quiet, it was strange seeing it so empty, though his mind was occupied. Don't throw up in the cafeteria, Miles, you eat in here everyday. So, he did his best to keep the bile down at least until he got to his room and walked through the cafeteria.

He walked into a door, "ow," he hissed, telling off himself for being so stupid. And now he needed to throw up again. Good job, Miles.

Someone was coming. His senses seemed to warn him before either his eyes or ears did. A few seconds after his brain had told him to hide, the mumbling voice of the janitor could be heard and the sound of the main door to the cafeteria rang through the room. He saw the flicker of a flashlight as the janitor grew closer and panicked.

As the janitor rounded the corner, the light of the torch hit Miles but didn't. In a way, it seemed to go straight through him.

The janitor was staring directly at Miles and he stared straight back at him, waiting to be berated or yelled at or dragged to the principals. Neither of those three things happened.

"Must've been the cats," the janitor grumbled to himself, "damn things keep sneaking into the kitchen." And he turned around and walked away.

Miles let out a sigh of relief and, though he was very confused, decided not to think about it too much as he stumbled back into his dorm room, too tired to even put together what happened.

Without waking up Ganke, who was passed out at his desk, Miles pushed himself onto the top bunk of the bed and fell asleep straight away, his dreams filled with strange visions of spiders and darkness.

* * *

 _The day after the pregnancy test, Adara was sitting in a cafe, with a few already empty mugs of black coffee in front of her, half way through the next one. She had got back from work early, her boss had kindly let her go, telling her to come back when her mind was in the right place. Right now, she was scrolling through her phone, tapping her fingers on the table as she kept glancing at the cafe door anxiously._

 _She wasn't sure if she had anyone else to talk to about this. She hadn't told Peter, she had wanted to but she just couldn't. In her mind, she used the excuse that he was too tired last night when he came back from being Spiderman late at night. She also told herself that she couldn't tell him this morning because they were hurrying to get to work. But she could've told him and, frankly, she should've told him. Yet, there was something inside of her that just wouldn't let him tell her._

 _So, who could she tell? Ned? No, no way. She loved that boy and he was her friend, but he was better friends with Peter and probably wouldn't know what to do with a pregnant Adara. MJ? While a good and trustworthy friend, not one to talk about this kind of thing. Harry? Now, that was someone she was certain she could talk to, but he was a busy man. Preparing for his own wedding to Jason in a few months. She would tell him once she had everything figured out. Steve? Another person she could tell, but not yet. In her head, she felt like Steve would be angry and yell at her. But he wouldn't, he was a reasonable man and was fully aware that Peter and Adara had had sex (they lived together and were married, for God's sake)._

 _So who could she ask?_

 _The bell above the cafe door rang and Adara glanced up, relieved when she saw Natasha walk in. As per usual, she had her rather flimsy disguise of a baseball cap over her red hair and a large hoodie. At one point, Natasha had died her hair blonde for a few years but, now, it was back to normal. Adara often found herself wondering how the woman maintained such good hair despite her age but, then she realised that Natasha probably dyed it often enough so no one could see the grey hairs poking through._

" _This is odd," said Natasha, sitting down, "you usually just invite me round to your apartment if you wanna talk."_

 _It was true, but it wasn't like anyone in this cafe was recognising Natasha._

" _I just needed to talk to you," she said before pausing._

" _You don't want Peter to hear, let me guess," said Natasha._

" _Yeah," she sighed, rubbing her forehead, "Nat, what do you think of Peter?"_

 _The redhead looked thoughtful, "good kid, maybe a bit too obsessed with being Spiderman but he's doing good things. Why? Are you having doubts about marrying him? You are still young Adara."_

 _Adara and Peter had married young, nothing fancy or over the top but they were so convinced that they were in love, that they had wanted to tie the knot as soon as possible. Maybe it was too fast, maybe it wasn't necessary but neither really cared._

 _Adara shrugged, "I don't know, Nat. It's just…" she trailed off, unsure of whether Nat would understand or not. She loved the woman with her life but, and she knew this, she wasn't particularly comfortable with subjects like babies or pregnancy. Sure, that was years ago now and Natasha wasn't likely to be interested in kids anyway but when you took that away from a woman, it wasn't so simple._

" _Spit it out, Adara," she said, "I can see you're dying to tell me."_

" _Natasha," she used her full name, "I took a test last night and it came back positive." There was a pause as Natasha stared. "I'm pregnant."_

" _Shit."_

" _Exactly."_

 _Natasha remained silent for a few seconds longer, Adara anxious for what she was going to say._

" _Shit."_

" _I know, Nat," she gritted her teeth, "I don't know what to do."_

" _Fuck, Adara," she said, "do you know how long?"_

" _I was only late by a couple weeks and it was just a gut feeling," she said, "but I don't know how long. I think I have to go to the doctors to check but I don't know, Nat, I just…"_

 _Natasha stared at the teenager… though she wasn't a teen anymore. Adara was twenty-two, independant, married and pregnant. She was a woman but, right now, she looked as lost as that thirteen-year-old they found in an alleyway all those years ago._

" _Do you want to tell Steve?" The redhead asked._

 _Adara nodded._

" _We can sort this out," she said, "whatever you want to do, we'll be with you." Adara just stared at the table. "Hey, listen to me. Steve and I aren't gonna let you go through this alone"_

 _Adara sighed, though she had never been more grateful for having Natasha and Steve in her life, "and what about Peter?"_

" _You should tell him."_

" _I know."_

 _She didn't._

"Adara!" Someone snapped at her and she was zapped back to reality.

It had been fifteen years since Adara had visited this cafe and that had been to tell Natasha that she was pregnant. But, today, she was here with her old, high-school friend, Michelle Jones. Part of the elite group who knew _about_ Adara, as in _really knew_. Now, she worked for the Daily Bugle. Not for J Jonah Jameson though, he had retired a few years back and now had his own radio show which was decent entertainment if you had nothing else to do but listen to an old man rant about superheroes.

Michelle had been working a story up in DC over the summer but was back in New York as the Bugle wanted their best journalists covering the alleged rivalry between Oscorp and Roxxon. Of course, Adara hadn't known this when MJ had invited her out to the cafe and now she was being interviewed with questions she didn't know the answers to.

"Are you listening?" Asked MJ.

"I zoned out," said Adara, "what were you saying?"

"I was wondering if you knew what the Prowler was trying to steal the other night."

"Why would I know?"

"You know Harry," she pointed out.

"He didn't seem to know either," said Adara, "can't you ask him yourself?"

"Me and Harry haven't bonded over this career."

"To be fair," said Adara, "he did ask you not to spread that story about his dad being a backstabber."

"I'm a journalist, Adara," she said, "it's my job to snoop."

"Damn right," muttered Adara.

"So Harry said he didn't know anything?" Said Michelle and Adara shook her head in confirmation, "well, have you spoken to you-know-who recently?"

"Can we not bring him up?" Adara put her head in her hands.

"You've been avoiding the topic for fifteen years."

"No shit."

"Have you still not told him?"

"Of course not, MJ," she rolled her eyes, "imagine your Peter, right? And it's been fifteen years since we last spoke and I just up and tell him 'hey, I know it's been a decade and a half but I ditched you because I was pregnant and now I have a kid whose fifteen-years-old whose yours, by the way.'"

"I would be pissed."

"Yeah."

"But he's still Emmy's father."

"I've been fine raising Emmy on my own."

"You could be doing a better job," MJ said bluntly, sipping her coffee, "you named her _Emmanuelle_ for a start. How obnoxious," she snorted.

"It's a french name."

"It's a shit name."

"Whatever, MJ," she sighed, "I've been trying to raise Emmy to be as normal as possible."

"No offense, Adara," the other woman put her coffee mug down, "but Peter knows more about living a normal life than you do. Or, at least a normal childhood. Emmy's babysitter is freaking Bucky Barnes, for God's sake. Not to mention her Grandad is batshit insane and locked in prison."

"It's not like I could cut the Avengers out of my life."

"You were fine doing that with Peter."

Adara slammed her head on the table, "see? This is why I hate hanging out with you." She raised her head, "you don't know what it was like. Having Peter stumble through the door with a stab wound, a scratch or worse when he came home. Or not even coming home so you'd have to lie there wondering whether your husband was actually alive. I could hardly handle his recklessness myself, how could Emmy?"

"You're reckless."

"I was," she corrected, "and then I got knocked up."

Michelle paused, "was it because of the _incident_?"

"Okay, MJ," said Adara, standing up, "it was nice seeing you and all, good luck with your Roxxon investigation but please bounce before I punch you in the face."

She smiled, a rare sight from MJ, "see you, Adara." She grabbed her bag and got out her chair, "tell Emmy I said hi."

* * *

The next place MJ went to on her Roxxon investigation was Peter Parker's apartment.

She knocked on the door but got no answer. She frowned and crouched down, fishing underneath the welcome mat. And, of course, fished out the spare key.

"For a genius, Parker, you can be remarkably stupid," she muttered to herself as she fitted the key into the slot.

Peter's apartment was small, which wasn't terrible considering he was basically never here. He had a kitchen, living room and bedroom all in one, small space butcher thankfully, his bathroom was separate. Peter didn't make much money, mainly because his boss didn't make much either. Tony Stark, of course, had offered Peter a much better job with a much better pay but he had stubbornly refused it, saying he was doing good work with Doctor Otto Octavius.

Michelle wandered over to Peter's desk, which where he mainly kept all of his Spiderman devices and upgrades. Peter was certainly a home-grown hero, as he did most of these things by himself. It just be a fairly lonely life. Michelle noticed a picture frame in the corner of the desk and picked it up. A small photo of a twenty-something year old Peter taking a selfie with a beaming Adara standing right next to him. Jeez, talk about sentimental.

Not much here.

Michelle was desperate to get any information she could find on whatever the Prowler was trying to steal. At this point, everyone was pretty certain that Roxxon had hired the super-villain to do their dirty work but what and why? Michelle wasn't sure. She loved her job, journalism and generally snooping was right up her alley. Yeah, maybe she was a little over the top and it did tend to get on her friends nerves. But, MJ wanted nothing more than to get this story out and the next one and the next one. Sometimes, being a nuisance was just a downside of the job.

Sadly, it didn't look like Peter had any information in his apartment. She frowned and wondered if she could be looking elsewhere. She glanced out the small window and caught a glimpse of skyscrapers in the distance, across the river. She could see the tall, intimidating tower of Oscorp, now one of the largest buildings to dominate the skyline. Not too far away was the Roxxon building, a few stories smaller but still under construction.

She heard mutterings coming from outside the apartment and the distinct sound of someone putting a key into a lock.

"I don't know if there was anything missing, I- MJ!" It was Peter.

"Hey, MJ," said Harry, sounding much less annoyed than his friend.

"What are you doing in my apartment?" Asked Peter, walking over to her and closing the desk drawer that she'd been rummaging through, "how did you get in?"

"You leave your spare key underneath the doormat," she said, "not exactly a top secret hiding place."

"Doesn't give you an excuse to walk right in."

"I'm working," she said.

"You're breaking an entry."

"Doesn't count if you know the person."

"That won't hold up in court," joked Harry

"What were you even looking for?" Asked Peter with his arms folded.

"Well, I'm looking into the Prowler break-in," she said and smirked when neither Harry or Peter said anything, "either of you two interested in helping a girl out?"

"I know about as much as you do," said Peter, "whatever rivalry is going on between your dad and Roxxon is not my business."

"Surely it must be your business," cut in Michelle, "the Prowler is, like, your greatest enemy."

"I agree," nodded Harry.

"You're only agreeing so I'll do another favour for you and your dad," said Peter, "besides the Prowler isn't my greatest enemy. In fact, I would say that I don't really have a greatest enemy at the moment. But, if you put a gun to my head and made me chose, I would probably say myself."

"Really?" Harry seemed disappointed, "not Vulture? the Scorpion?"

"What do you mean 'favour?'" Asked Michelle.

"Harry asked me to keep an eye on Oscorp tower the other night, that's when I saw the Prowler."

"So you were anticipating a break in?"

"My dad was."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Since when does my dad tell me anything?"

Both Peter and Michelle decided that this was a fair point.

Harry continued, "Listen, MJ, you're probably find it easier to stay out of this because I know what you're like. You're more reckless than Spiderman over here but, unlike Oscorp, Roxxon would probably kill you if they caught you breaking in."

"They just won't catch me then," she shrugged as if it were so simple, already making her way out of the door, "anyway, three's a crowd and you two were no help anyway. I'll see you around."

Michelle Jones knew that Roxxon wanted to steal something from Oscorp, and she also knew that Norman Osborne wasn't keen on letting anyone else find out what that something was. And if no one was gonna tell her, she'd just have to figure it out herself.

* * *

On Friday morning when Emmy heard her alarm go off, a wave of relief washed over her. One more day and she could go home. Thank God, the first week back was really exhausting and she would very much like to use a shower that wasn't cold. Rolling out of bed (Alice had the top bunk), she quickly shoved everything into her suitcase and glanced up.

"Alice," she said, "get up."

The blonde girl groaned and sat up, "is it already seven?"

"Unfortunately."

The two got changed and ready and, in the back of Emmy's mind, she _swore_ something important was happening. Was it a school event? Probably not, or Alice would've mentioned something. Was it to do with the Avengers? No, the world wasn't due to end today, though she knew that her and her mom would drive up to see them this weekend. What could it be then…?

Oh, shit.

She found Miles in second period history. He was sitting at the back of the classroom, where he usually sat on his own as he was the new kid. His head was on the desk, Emmy would've thought he was sleeping if it weren't for his fingers drumming on the table. But he was still alive, which meant the janitor and the nightguard hadn't found him and he wasn't in any trouble (probably).

Instead of sitting in her usual seat, she moved to sit at the back beside Miles.

"Hey," she said.

He looked up.

"Oh, God," she said, "you look like shit."

"Thanks, Emmy," he said, before frowning, "I feel like shit."

"What happened? Did you sneak out?"

"Yeah and I went to my uncles," he said, "it was alright, I ate decent food for once." The food is pretty crap here."

"Okay but why do you look like you died?"

"I dunno," he shrugged, "food poisoning, or something."

She gave him a look that said 'sure.'

Later that day, once Emmy had up most of her things in her suitcase, she said bye to Alice and began to head out of school.

However, she was stopped by Miles, who was looking a bit better than he had earlier.

"Hey, Emmy."

"Hey, Miles. What's up?"

"Listen," he said, "I just had a question."

"Yeah?" She looked at him expectantly.

"Well," he began, rubbing the back of his neck, "I was just wondering if you wanted to do something this weekend?"

Emmy blinked, she had not expected that.

Now, it was time to look into this deeper. Was this a date? It was difficult to say, Emmy often hung out with friends that happened to be guys and she knew that they definitely weren't dating. Miles was a friend, she could say that, and he happened to be a guy. However, this felt different. Emmy was no prude, she was fifteen and had dated guys before. Only a couple and it hadn't meant anything, both times it hadn't even lasted a month. Did Emmy like Miles in that way? Also hard to say. He was cute, funny and really likeable. Sure, he was unpopular but people only didn't like him because he had come to this school thanks to a lottery draw. But he was as smart as the rest of them and , in fact, far less stuck up. Some people just had a bias against public school kids.

Okay, she was still standing here. Emmy hadn't said anything yet, this was getting awkward. Think, Emmy, think!

"Sure," she said casually, like she hadn't had an inward debate with herself for several minutes. "Like what?"

"Well, my-" Miles cut himself off. He was going to say 'my uncle' before realising that didn't exactly come off as cool. "Well, I found this place, like an abandoned subway station-"

Now Emmy cut him off.

"Say no more," she said, "I'm in."

Now, Emmy didn't think she took that much after her mom in terms of personality but, if she did take one thing, it was the unstoppable urge to do something stupid on a constant basis. Explore an abandoned subway station? Hell yeah, right up her alley.

"Great," Miles grinned before clearing his throat, "I uh- cool. I'll text you the details then."

"Yeah," she said, walking down the steps that led up to the school, "I'll see you then."

"Yeah," he said, watching her go, "I'll see you then."

* * *

"Mom," said Emmy, loudly as she opened the door into their apartment, "I'm back."

Silence. Actually, not complete silence, Emmy could hear the sound of the tv from the room next door, but she couldn't hear her mom moving around the house or anyone, for that matter.

"Mom?" Emmy repeated, a little louder as she dropped her bag on the floor and made her way to the kitchen.

She should be home by now, she got off work early on Friday so, unless the usual routine has changed, Emmy's mind was running the worst possible scenarios through her head. Call it paranoia, call it a side-effect of being a daughter of someone like Adara, but it was just habit for her to be so cautious. Hence why she walked over to the kitchen drawer and grabbed one of the various, sharp knives her mom left lying around the house.

"Mom?!" She called out for the final time.

Bang! There was the sound of someone approaching her. She quickly swivelled around to stab them but, whoever it was, managed to grab her wrist and stop the attack. But, Emmy had an almost unnatural strength, so easily wriggled out of it and knocked the attacker to the ground. They were quick though, dodging out of the way as quick as a flash before Emmy could land another blow and darting round the back of her, wrenching the knife from her grip and skilfully shoving her against the counter with a knife to her throat.

"You lasted five seconds longer than last time."

"Natasha!" Emmy finally realised, moving the knife away from her throat, "you're back!"

"Nat, what did I say about breaking into my apartment," said Adara, appearing in the kitchen with wet hair, "and harassing my child with a knife."

"It's training."

"For what? The next time you break in and attack her again?"

Despite their snark, the two older women hugged,obviously pleased to see each other. Natasha had been on a mission in some southern European country for a couple weeks. But now she was back with a tan and several, interesting stories that she was supposed to keep top-secret but was going to inevitably share over the Domino's pizza they were ordering tonight.

"I thought you weren't getting back until Saturday," said Adara.

"Finished the job up a day early," Natasha shrugged as she walked over to the fridge and opened it up, "your milk's gone off, you have no food and this," she took out a salt shaker, "doesn't go in the fridge."

"I'll order pizza once I've dried my hair," Adara said, "how was school, Em?"

"It was okay," she shrugged, "there's a new kid who I'm probably gonna hang out with tomorrow. Oh, and I got a hundred percent in my math quiz."

"Are we even related?" Scoffed Adara.

"New kid?" Naturally, Natasha was suspicious, "how well do you know them?"

"He's literally the most harmless boy around, Nat, I wouldn't worry-"

"He?" Even Adara raised at eyebrow at this.

"What? I can be friends with guys," said Emmy, glaring at the both of them, "I mean, your best friend is Harry."

"Yes, but Harry's married to a man," Adara said, "he's not exactly trying to get into my pants."

"Miles isn't like that," she said, "plus, you can't decide the boys I go out with anyway. Even if it was a date."

"I wouldn't let her decide," Natasha said, through a mouthful of cornflakes she had found in one of the cupboards, "she has an _awful_ taste in men." Adara glared at the redhead, who noticed but kept on going anyway. "One time, in High School, she agreed to go out with this boy who came up to about there on me," Natasha gestured to her shoulder, "and then she ended up getting kidnapped by Hydra. _That_ was a whole fiasco."

"It was traumatising," Adara argued.

"The date or the kidnapping."

"Both," she said before sighing, "God, Flash Thompson. I wonder what happened to him."

"His name was Flash?" Emmy gave her a judgemental look.

"No, his real name was Eugene."

"Somehow that's worse."

Luckily, that conversation went on for long enough for the fact that Emmy was hanging out with a boy the next day to be forgotten, if only momentarily. Her mom had a habit of teasing her for every boy she interacted with. Not surprising, that's just what people did though it could get annoying.

Besides, the mention of men had Emmy wondering about her own father, not something she did overly often. It was a sensitive subject. Emmy vividly remembered bringing it up when she was much younger and insistently questioning it only to have her mom snap at her. That wouldn't have dissuaded her under most circumstances if she hadn't overheard Harry comforting her crying mother in the kitchen when Emmy was supposed to be in bed. Emmy _hated_ seeing her mother upset, she hated seeing anyone upset but her mom seemed to have gone through so much and was almost desperate to give Emmy a normal life so, when Emmy upset her or got her worked up, it made the girl feel guilty. Hence why the topic of her father remained quiet. Besides, Emmy had a family that was too big for her own good.

The night stretched on and Emmy, filled with pizza, must've drifted off on the sofa at some point. But she woke up, still half asleep and overheard a conversation between Natasha and her mom.

"This Roxxon business is all anyone's talking about," said Adara, "I'm half tempted to walk over to Oscorp tower and figure it out myself so people will stop asking me questions about it."

"Unless Roxxon is trying to blow up New York, it's none of my business," said Natasha, "it's just a rivalry between two companies, journalists are only gonna be talking about it for a week before Spiderman does the next, inevitable, big, public skit."

"Maybe he could start by actually catching the Prowler," Adara said rather tersely.

Natasha laughed, "I don't think it's _that_ easy."

"That's what he wants you to think."

"There's no need to be so bitter, Adara," said Natasha, "you know it wasn't his fault."

"I know it wasn't," Adara sighed, "but you know…" There was a pause, "whatever, do you want a drink?"

"Rosé, if you have it," said Natasha.

Emmy contemplated the conversation, but not for long as she drifted back into sleep.

* * *

 **The Next Morning**

 **Saturday, 6th September**

"I'll just be out for a couple hours or so, it's no big deal, dad," said Miles, who already had his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Fine," he said, "but if I catch you doing anything, you won't get away with it as easily as last time."

Miles grinned, "you won't catch me doing anything. Trust me," he was already heading out the door, "I'll see you later, yeah?"

Jefferson watched his son go and sighed, leaning back on the kitchen chair. His wife, Rio, placed her hands on either of his shoulders, rubbing them as the two watched the door slam behind Miles.

"You shouldn't be so strict with him," she said, "he's only having fun."

"I know," he said, rubbing his temples, "it's just- you know, I'm only firm with him because I'm scared he looks up to Aaron too much."

"You should have more faith in your brother too," Rio said, "he's not teaching Miles the wrong thing, he loves that kid. You two just…" she sighed, looking for the right words, "went down different paths."

Jefferson tutted, "you could say that."

"Just relax," said Rio, "or, you could help me with the washing."

He groaned at _that_.

Meanwhile, Miles was scrolling through his texts from Emmy.

 _Emmy: Yeah, I'll meet you by the curb._

 _Emmy: I'll be a minute, this subway station better be impressive or you owe me._

 _Miles: What do I owe you?_

 _Emmy: A Wendy's._

He grinned as he leant against the lamppost on the designated curb where they were supposed to meeting. He had been nervous before leaving today, he had been worried his dad might check out his backpack and see all the paint cans he had stored away. Thankfully, he had worked a late shift last night and was probably too tired this morning to bother. Hence, why Miles had got away with it so easily.

Miles had lost that funny feeling from the other night. Sure, his head was still pounding and everything was still loud, but he had almost grown used to it. He had taken some ibuprofen (do Americans have ibuprofen?) and had hoped that would get rid of it. It hadn't, but at least he'd tried. He still had no explanation as to how that security guard had missed him last night, but he was certainly thanking every God out there that he hadn't got caught sneaking out. He could only imagine how furious his dad would've been if the school had phoned home… Grounded for a week? A month? More like forever.

"Hey!" Yelled Emmy, suddenly appearing behind him.

He jumped, but tried to play it off, "oh, uh- hey."

"Come on then," she said, rather excitedly, "let's go see this abandoned subway station."

Miles tried to remember where his uncle had said it was, and began guiding her.

"So you're into this kind of thing?" He asked as they walked, "like, with the breaking into places?"

"Sure, it's fun," she said.

"What if you got caught?"

She shrugged, "my mom wouldn't get too mad at me. She'd be more angry that I got caught. What about your parents?"

"Oh, my dad would kill me," said Miles, "you know, cuz he's an officer and all."

"Oh yeah," Emmy nodded. She was obviously remembering the embarrassing, first day incident where his dad had loudly blared out his siren in front of the _entire_ academy. God, he was never going to live that down. "So how'd you find this place?"

Either, he could come up with a cool way he found it, or he could tell the truth.

"Honestly, my uncle told me about it," he said.

"When you visited him after sneaking out the other night?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I was showing him this piece I was working on, right." He began and Emmy nodded, she had seen some of his art and sketches in class, he was really good. "And he told me a place to- uh- put it up where my dad wouldn't find it."

"Woah, that's pretty cool," she said, "like street art and all?"

"Uh-huh," he couldn't help but smirk a little, "it's kind of a hobby. My dad hates it though."

The two reached the entrance to a subway station. Not overly busy but not quiet either. Good, that worked in their favour. They went down the stairs but, before they reached the barriers, the diverted to a door with the words 'employee's only' written on it.

He fiddled with the knob, "damn, my uncle said it was never locked. Do you have a hair pin?"

"Don't bother," she said, walking up to the door and twisting the knob.

There was the sound of a lock breaking and the door swung open to reveal a dark room. She grinned, gesturing inside, "ladies first, but gentlemen just before."

He looked at her, perplexed, "how did you do that?"

"Wasn't difficult, the lock was worn down anyway" she said, "you just gotta apply enough force to it."

Miles decided to believe this for now, he had seen weirder things.

The room was dark, he had a feeling it wasn't used often. It must've been an old control room of sorts (they had that in subways, right?) as there were large windows overlooking a dark, abandoned railway track. He opened a door (not locked, this time) and the two of them stepped out onto track.

"Are you sure this is, like, safe?" She asked, "like, aren't subway tracks live or something?"

"Not these ones," he said before frowning, "probably."

That was good enough for Emmy, who stepped down with little caution and fiddled with her phone to turn on the torch. She shone it directly in Miles who squinted and rolled her eyes at her grinning expression.

The two walked along the train tracks, both of them attempting to balance on top of the metal but failing pretty badly. It was dark, with only the light of Emmy's torch to guide them along, it made shadows look longer and the darkness look even darker. Every once and awhile, the ground would shake as a train along another track rumbled along through at top speed. It wasn't really scary but if he was a movie director, thought Miles, he would set his latest horror movie here.

The tunnel opened up into a bigger, more spacious area where there was already a single carriage of a subway sitting on the tracks. Miles clambered up onto the platform and offered a hand to Emmy, who didn't really need it but took it anyway. It was rather dingy and desolate, covered in litter and graffiti tags. Not one part of it was impressive or remarkable, it was just a shitty, disused, subway station.

So, naturally, Emmy said, "woah, this is cool."

Miles looked back at her, "it's so…"

"Quiet?"

"Empty," he said, "I mean, it's just like everyone just suddenly had to leave and just left everything here." He gestured to an old, rusted bike on the floor, "I mean, that's still there. And an entire train carriage."

"Why would they just leave this behind," Emmy wondered aloud, walking over to it, wedging open the doors, that were already partly open.

As he left her to investigate the carriage, Miles turned to a blank spot on the wall and opened his sketchbook to the image he had shown Uncle Aaron the other day. She grabbed the black spray paint and measured up the wall, before just going for it.

Within the carriage, Emmy was looking around. She found an advertisement stuck to the wall and took a closer look at it. It was some flyer for a production at a theatre in Queens. Emmy didn't think it looked up her alley, as the cast seemed to be wearing bright, ridiculous costumes and were plastered with over-the-top makeup. She checked the back of the flyer and saw the dates, it was a good decade ago now. Wow, they had really left a station unused for so long.

She was enjoying this, the sense of adventure and discovery, it was right up her alley.

"Not too shabby for a first date," she said, running her fingers across the subway map, and drawing them back, coated in dust.

She glanced out the window to see Miles concentrating on his spray painting. Was this a date, though? Neither of them had called it that but teenage boys weren't the most romantic bunch, and tended to just say they were 'hanging out.' Then again, if a boy wanted to get into your pants, it was usually a movie trip or a night out followed by a 'hey, wanna head back to my place?' This wasn't any of those things. Emmy liked hanging out with Miles. Call it moving fast but they were teenagers, Alice had gotten with her boyfriend after like a day of knowing each other.

It wasn't love at first sight and Emmy didn't even know if she was crushing on him, but he was certainly cute and definitely knew how to show a girl a good time.

She, out of habit, checked her phone to make sure for any texts. Nothing, she had no service under here.

Then, she caught something in the corner of her eyes. She walked over to the other side of the carriage, the half not facing the platform and glanced out. There was a small door left open. She couldn't see what was through it, it was too dark. But she was certainly curious. She decided to investigate it once Miles had finished doing what he was doing.

It took him an hour, but neither of them minded. He was almost too absorbed into his work as Emmy blasted music from her own phone and continued looking around the empty station. When he was done, he took a step back.

Emmy walked over to him, coughing, "God, you smell like paint fumes."

"I'm done," he said.

She glanced up at the large painting and her green eyes widened, "woah, Miles, that's amazing. Banksy is quaking in his boots right now."

Even Miles couldn't deny feeling a little proud, "yeah, it is kinda cool."

She jabbed him in the ribs, causing him to make a not-exactly-tough 'oof' sound.

"Stop being so modest," she said, "you're a real artist."

He looked at her, "you think so?"

She looked back at him, he only just realised how green her eyes were. Not even a splash of blue or brown, just green, almost impossibly so.

"Of course, I think so," she said sincerely.

There was a bang sound, both of them jumped and instantly tried to find the source.

"What the hell was that?" Emmy glanced back at Miles.

Or, at least where Miles had been standing.

"Miles? Where the hell did you go?" She asked, spinning in a circle.

"I'm right here," he said.

She glanced back at him, suddenly seeing him again, "oh, yeah. Sorry, must've been a trick of the light or something."

No, it couldn't have been, Emmy thought, she had had seen the wall behind him and everything, and he was very clearly not there. Maybe she was going insane. No, she had been raised to think through things logically, maybe it had been the light playing tricks on her. It was, after all, very dark in here and a phone light only got you so far.

"It came from behind the train carriage," he said.

"I saw a door over there earlier," she said, looking at him expectantly.

"So we go towards the scary banging noise?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?"

The two hopped off the platform and onto the tracks, edging around the carriage and using Emmy's light to guide them towards where she had seen the door. Though, even as she shone the torch down the corridor, they could see nothing but darkness. The manly thing to do would to take the lead but Emmy seemed keen to stay in front, and Miles didn't really want to argue with that.

The corridor seemed to go on forever and Miles couldn't see if they were heading towards the end from behind Adara. In fact, he was convinced they would never stop walking until she suddenly stopped dead-still in her tracks.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Look," she muttered.

He glanced over her shoulder to see that there was… something up ahead. It looked like possibly a room, with white walls and a ceiling. The two teenagers glanced at each other and walked the last stretch of the corridor to reach it.

Thankfully, Adara put out a hand to stop him from going any further.

Suddenly, they were standing on the edge of a large pit with a dark bottom and several, construction and scaffolding structures surrounding it. There was no need for Adara's torch, as lights built into the vast, dome-shaped room brightened everything up.

"What on Earth?" Miles blinked, "this place might not be as disused as we thought."

Miles felt a little confused. Obviously, his uncle had come to this place before, how did he miss this massive area with a massive pit in the middle? It hadn't exactly been difficult to find, the door had been wide open and readily available for the two teenagers to walk in.

"Up there," said Emmy, pointing the wall.

He looked up and saw the words printed in bold letters.

'ROXXON'

"This must be like some experiment facility of some kind," said Emmy, "an underground lab. See, there's a control room just over there," she pointed to just underneath the Roxxon logo, "but what could they be testing?"

"Obviously they don't want anyone else to know about it," he said, "otherwise they wouldn't have it tucked away here." He suddenly grinned, "man, this is _exactly_ like those super, crazy action movies."

"There's something moving down there," she said, pointing to the pit, "look."

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust but the girl was right, in the darkness he could just about make the shape of someone or something scuttling about. Almost like a crab except not a crab. Whatever it was, it was too large to be human, that was for sure.

Emmy shuffled herself slightly, attempting to get a close look when her foot hit a pebble. It dropped straight from their ledge and down, down, down into the pit. There was a light 'pling' sound that echoed through the empty facility.

The shape, whatever it was, stopped moving.

The two teenagers glanced at each other and then back down into the pit.

And then the thing started to move around the pit and then…

Climb up the wall?

It emerged from the shadows and both teenagers, whether they had a phobia of it or not, almost shit themselves.

"Fuck, fuck!" Yelled Miles, falling backwards and scrambling to his feet.

It was a giant fucking spider.

It was the same size of the train carriage from before except it had a big, blue spider with long, spindly legs and eight, red eyes, all focused on the two of them. Neither of them really had the time to measure the ridiculousness of this situation, or to find some rational explanation of what was going on. This might as well have been a H.P Lovecraft novel as right now, they were being chased down by a massive, evil spider whose only intention seemed to be to eat them.

"Run!" Was the only word Miles seemed to comprehend and he wasn't about to disagree as Emmy suddenly grabbed his hand and they were running down the corridor.

He could HEAR the scuttling of eight legs behind them as they sprinted for their lives, but he didn't dare turn around for fear of seeing how close it was behind them.

They emerged from the corridor and back into the platform. As EMmy suddenly dragged him to the side, he caught a glimpse of the giant creature still pursuing them and it was in that moment when _something_ overcame him.

He let go of Emmy's hand and turned around and reached out his own hand.

Emmy turned around, realising she had lost grip of Miles and time slowed down for just a second as she witnessed the scene unfolding.

He had stopped in his tracks with the spider running right at him maliciously and put out his hand. Then, his body almost seemed to light up with a blue light and, as the spider came into contact with his palm, it was flung backwards with a zap, and it's body crashed into the train carriage before falling onto the tracks.

The world went quiet and Miles almost seemed to do a double back, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.

Emmy was also in shock.

"What just happened?" He said.

"You tell me," she shot back.

The two of them approached the spider. It was on its back, its legs bent inwards and, no doubt about it, dead.

"I think I'm gonna need about twenty-four hours to figure this out," said Emmy, "we can go back to my place, I have leftover pizza."

"I guess the papers were right about one thing," Miles said, looking from the spider and at her, "Roxxon was definitely up to something dodgy."

* * *

 **A/N: Damn, a lot happened in this chapter. I mean, I started writing this chapter in February, and now it's April Fool's Day and also one o'clock in the morning. I SWEAR I will have an explanation to the giant fucking spider, but it was fun to write and I feel like it really bought these two, plucky, teenage protagonists together.**

 **Either way, thanks for reading if any of you are still here. I've missed this. The next chapter could be up next week or next year at this point. Who knows my fucking schedule at this point.**


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